












</> ^ V 


% vwv ^ 



- ./■ %. - 

t> 4 \* *& > 'J 

rjS t > 



v ^ v 4R-'V .^V- ^ 

k <° 0 * .. ’, 


^ V. I fl ' 2 «,‘ J 0 * * 

*<.% <?'-;* 

soft ' "'o o x 

r cK 


* v ' - h i f I 

■■I ■ ^viS 


c, 

V 



•\ 


v\sr » 

-i/ sr * s V 

x ** , ^ \ % S .'\ O y o * x * ,0 

•"<•, ** A av .» N ‘« 

■^Cj * O . ^ /yO' X-, ^ ^ 

A ' JR/Z ' ' - * c < 

foV/ * ''o 0 N 

§7 7 \* ',,. * •> r * o c -'^ 

4 , v N .O' O ' » . 

* 1 ' n> ,'••>* 




,»' + ,0 0 c o '*,^0 . 

\& *'" ’/<*!* % v N 


>U CL 


=;^l| 

v - * 1 » 








r > M 


* # cf\ fc V „ , a aW 

* o 

•e *«* 

. . « V * % 

: .$% -,Wy£Z ■'■ ^ ^ * •• 

V- % ^ '■>' - * oV ^ , ^£ 7 ^ A ^ ' » - - .V' 

V V V - 0 ’ ‘ >V 

\° * 

«’ qJ 

w, O ’ 


"o A ; ^ 





e t 


N .0 


.0. 


•'7. .^ N . 


> V 

cf*, ^ 

ft „ . v «> ■ 

x> 0> "> 81 S 


r~* 


' / 

° ^ * ' J M 0 ’ \^ V 

b V ^ ^ d "/• 

f *■ <? 5 > ^ 

: % 'jfVA..-- 

•-. : - :>; ; : *x'£ 

\ 11 





V<. ^ 





°o’ 


7 : 5 > ° ^ ^ " v <£Wt^ v "• 

.so' A\ v *> «,,,•' A ?- - O , 

a v > »'-«/ > ^ o .: '« '< 

^ A ^ -ft V - A* 

* . ■< , 

z '. 


^ I I ' 


» CL X ** 

c*> ^ 

~ * V? <?• « 


y V 


: \° °- 

y , * ^ r (3 ^ ^ x x " 7 °^ 

%V< A^’ r{\>$- 0» ^ ^ ey ^ ^ 

'V . £M™/. % °2L ^ ^ v 

C' . sO^ir,. V. 4 \i 


o o N 




’ll' 



> s s ^ v » * ’ " " / 

\ ***«& .®mj/A° -<,<? 

a> </n 1 ^///^r^SS^ ® c. ^ 

, , . ^ *o; k* aO* N 

/% °o f 0 < c 

. '- w- - V ’ V- ' M. ^ 

^j- \> " ^ 

* 



£R\F - «** ^ 

^ ■* oV 


* * >S S i o' 

,M.| ( %, ^ 4 v * 

GV 

if : ^ 



^ 'U. 


• 3 * r\ 
\ .tv 







-< 

* 

' vc^s* >° ^ °*X + 

-;v— > v\<-., % '•■ 

... V. . J .f\^> j «i /A o ->> 

^ ,# . 0 ^ % 


V> -£> 
i .* 5 *<• * 


<r . * , 


^ ^ 0 0 

■ = 



'*0 :K'* 4 U 

O- r 0 ' <• 0 '’ ** s ^ 

1 '-' 0 * j^NSi, ^ -P v 

* - •■ ‘ **, v* ' 

0 „ v* > 



>. T,;^ i 


, ,., V: * . , a'V ,.., \*> » ; 

V * ' ' * s jrsj ** C> 

- « s* v .., *<*. 



'K< c.- 

0 o 


\ I » 



< ’ l * * s " . \ ' v 1 B ' 

4* * ,o rvv . 0 N C . .v\' ^ V ' o j, 

■* 3 0 ° ^ ^ v ^ * s 

•>* V , 7 b y- ~- 

^ 00 ' f ^ > 

\0 o 

\ ✓ 

/ 


» .w* ■t'.f. = V/woif ,' V 

A ^ -v’VV^ 



&tj ' ^ 

V\Q * 4 .., ’ 

0 o> V- ' - 

. '- 0 VV-,V* x 

& «dM'> 'he " 



r 0 v c 


t ~°o* : - 

® o 5 %t* " ^ 

> \v rf. £ 

nr f 0 s , * , % * 0 N 0 ^ v " ♦ » > 

O v s s T // O \> *■ v r P 

» ^I’-'Sk '. -’U. .-. T 



r <i- 



■«?. ..^ 



















































































































































































































































































































THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 



« 


THE LISTEN TO 
ME STORIES 


BY 

ALICIA ASPINWALL 

AUTHOR OF CAN YOU BELIEVE ME STORIES, 
STORIES FOR SHORT PEOPLE,” ETC. 



“SHORT 


NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 


Copyright, 1897 

By E. P. Dutton & Company 
“The Echo Maid,” etc. 

Copyright, 1910 

By E. P. Dutton & Company 




©CLA273468 
















































































































































' 






































* 










































- 












































yW/MWM 

v/tf ///////// / m/'// 


7////J//, 

















Note: Four Stories in this Volume originally 
appeared in “ The Echo-Maid and Other Stories.” 
They are here reprinted with the addition of “ A 
Discontented Rooster ” and “ The Box-Eating 
Antarilla ” hitherto unpublished. 



CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Echo-Maid 13 

In the Land of the Wee-Uns .... 85 

The Big Light on Burning Mountain . .177 

A Leap-Year Boy 233 

A Discontented Rooster 275 

The Box-Eating Antarilla ..... 309 




































ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ ’T is the Echo-Maid Hersel’ ! ” Frontispiece \ 
Sam and the King of the Wee-Uns . .92 V 

The Phcenix 148 

Rudolf and the Pine-Needle Dog . . .180 

Hot-House Flowers 240 

The Food Garden 250 

No Rest for Him, Even Here! .... 296 







THE ECHO-MAID 



THE LISTEN TO ME 
STORIES 


THE ECHO-MAID 

I 

I N the northern part of Scotland, on the 
side of a lonely mountain, stood a 
small, weather-beaten hut. Save for the 
sweet wild-roses that clambered over it, 
so gray and low it was, that at a little dis- 
tance it was difficult to distinguish it from 
the gray rocks around. Except for this 
one little house, one could look to the top 
of the opposite mountain lost in mist, or 
down to the ravine at its base, and see no 
other habitation — nothing but the long 
stretches of purple-gray heather. And 
13 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


but for the tinkling of the sheep-bells, and 
the occasional wild cry of a bird, no sound 
could be heard. Down and beyond the 
mountain at the right, a faint blue line 
was visible — the sea; and sometimes a 
low, booming sound could be heard — the 
waves dashing against the rocky coast. 

In a field, at some distance above the 
cottage, sat two children, a boy and a girl, 
talking earnestly. About them grazed 
the Laird’s sheep, while the faithful collie 
“Sandy” kept them within bounds. 
Sandy was kind, but firm, and every sheep 
there knew that the collie’s ideas as to 
just where they should feed must be re- 
spected, or that unpleasant consequences 
would follow. 

“Tell again about the pirates, an’ the 
pot o’ gold, Jamie,” said the little girl, to 
her companion. 

“Well, ye see, Janet,” began Jamie. 
14 


THE ECHO-MAID 


“It was many years ago, they was pirates, 
an’ they cam’ o’er the sea, wi’ a pot o’ gold. 
They clomb o’er the rocks an’ cam’ here 
wi’ it, an’ ’t was hereabout they do say 
’t was hid. An’ whoever ’ll find it ’ll be 
the rich man.” 

“An’ where d’ ye think ’t was hid, 
Jamie 1 ?” 

“I think,” said Jamie, looking about in 
a strictly impartial manner, “they ’ll have 
put it there, on Mount Enochan,” and he 
pointed at the precipitous frowning moun- 
tain opposite. “D’ ye see that high rock 
up there, wi’ a clump o’ trees?” 

The girl nodded. 

“An’ to the left, d’ ye see a big black 
hole in the rock?” 

“I do,” said Janet. “ ’T is the Echo- 
Maid’s Cave, Jamie.” 

“ ’T is that, Janet, an’ ’t is there I do 
be thinkin’ that the gold is hid. I know 

15 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


’t is that ’s the place. ’T is the Echo- 
Maid hersel’ that ’s got the pot o’ gold, 
an’ Janet, I ’ll tell ye how I know,” and 
here Jamie’s voice sank to an awed whis- 
per. “She ’s told me so hersel’, mony ’s 
the time. Hark to it now.” 

The boy then stood up, and forming a 
sort of trumpet with his two hands, 
shouted: “Echo-Maid, have ye the pot 
o’ gold?” 

And clear and distinct came the answer, 
“Pot o’ gold.” 

“Is it still there?” 

“Still there,” was the answer. 

“D’ ye hear that, Janet?” said Jamie. 

With tightly clasped hands and quickly 
beating heart the little girl sat down again 
upon the rock, and it was some time before 
she spoke. Then she said : 

“Jamie, d’ ye think, if we asked the 
Echo-Maid, she wad gie us the gold?” 

16 


THE ECHO-MAID 


“Mayhap she wad, but not for ten pots 
o’ gold wad I go up there,” said Jamie, 
stoutly. 

“It wad make us rich, Jamie, and my 
poor mither wouldna have to have scanty 
porritch any more. Last night, d’ ye 
know, she made me sup all the porritch, 
an 5 said she had no hunger, but well I 
know why she said that,” and the tender- 
hearted child wiped her eyes with her 
apron. Jamie comforted her as well as he 
could. 

It had grown late. The shadows had 
lengthened on the moorland, and the gray 
mists were rising from the valley below. 
The two children rose, and with the help 
of the dog, rounded the sheep into the 
rude fold. Then Jamie trudged his way 
home to the village of Dunarroch, while 
Janet went into the cottage. 

Her mother met her at the door with a 
17 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

wan smile. When Janet looked into her 
thin, pale face, she threw her arms about 
her neck, and said: “Oh, Mither, Mither, 
could I but get the pot o’ gold that Jamie 
was tellin’ me about! Ye wad be happy 
then.” 

Mrs. McDonald smiled sadly. “ ’T wad 
tak’ but little gold to mak’ me happy, 
Janet,” she said. “But think no more 
on’t, child. Your face is flushed an’ yer 
eyes bright. Ye stayed too late on the 
moor. I hope ye ha’na taken cold. Come 
sup, the porritch stands waiting.” 

“I dinna want the porritch,” said Janet. 
“I canna eat. I have no hunger.” 

“Then go to bed, child. ’T is the best 
place for ye.” 

This Janet did, and her mother, after 
listening to her simple prayer, covered her 
warm and snug in her little cot, and said : 

“I have been to Dunarroch to-day, 
l8 


THE ECHO-MAID 


Janet, an’ I heard news. I ’ll tell ye 
about it in the morn.” 

“Tell it now, Mither,” begged Janet. 

“Not to-night, child. Sleep is the thing 
for ye now. I hope the dear child is na 
going to be ill,” she said to herself. 
“What wad I do then? What wad I 
do?” and burying her face in her hands, 
the poor woman cried as if her heart 
would break. “Ah, well,” she said at 
last, “I ’ll wait till I see what the morn ’ll 
bring.” 

Years ago, Mrs. McDonald had been 
cook at Castle Dunarroch, and had mar- 
ried Thomas, the groom. The old Laird 
and his Lady had been very kind to the 
young couple, and all had at first gone 
well with them. Then the old Laird 
died, and his Lady and the young Laird, 
a mere boy, had left the castle, and lived 
for years in Edinboro’. A few years later 
19 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Thomas, too, died, leaving his wife and 
baby, Janet, alone. With her husband’s 
death the poor woman’s troubles began. 
She had the tiny hut and the little patch 
of ground rent-free, and with the few 
potatoes she raised, and the occasional 
day’s work for the minister’s and doctor’s 
families in Dunarroch, she barely man- 
aged to make a scanty living. When 
Janet was old enough she helped care for 
the Laird’s sheep up among the hills, and 
shared with Jamie Burns the few pennies 
she got for it. 

Meanwhile, the young Laird’s mother 
had died, and he himself had just married, 
and the news which Mrs. McDonald had 
heard in Dunarroch that day, was that he 
with his bride was coming back to his 
castle the following afternoon. The 
house, which had been closed for fifteen 
years, was once more to be opened. And 
20 


THE ECHO-MAID 


she, Mrs. McDonald, had been bidden 
there to help the cook. She had been 
shown a letter from the Laird himself, 
written to the care-taker at the castle, in 
which he had said : 

“Is Catherine McDonald alive and 
well? If so, she must be bidden to the 
castle to help in the cooking. I have 
never forgotten her scones.” 

“The dear lad,” said Mrs. McDonald, 
wiping her eyes. “Well do I remember 
his curly head, popped into the kitchen, 
an’ his ‘One lill mo’ scone, Cat’rine?’ ” 

Mrs. McDonald was much delighted at 
the thought of seeing the young Laird 
again, and his bonnie bride. She felt that 
her troubles were over. 

“He ’ll help me when he sees how ’t is 
wi’ me. He was fond of my Thamas. 
’T was Thamas that taught him to ride,” 
and comforted by the thought of what the 


21 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


morrow would bring, Mrs. McDonald 
went to bed, and was soon fast asleep. 

Meanwhile Janet, knowing nothing of 
this, was not asleep, but lay on her cot 
in the corner, tossing restlessly from side 
to side. Her little head was filled with 
thoughts as to how she could help her 
poor, anxious mother. 

“The pot o’ gold. If I cud only get 
the pot o’ gold from the Echo-Maid,” she 
said. “Jamie wadna go wi’ me, an’ I ’m 
afeared to go alone. But why should I be 
af eared? I cud tell the Echo-Maid ’t was 
for the mither’s sake I cam’, and ’t was for 
her I asked the gold, an’ I ’m sure — I ’m 
sure she ’d gie it me. She canna ha’ use 
for it hersel’.” Here Janet thought a 
while, and at last said resolutely: “I’ll 
go. I ’ll go the morn,” and with these 
words on her lips, she fell asleep. 

Before dawn, she rose, and quietly 
22 


THE ECHO-MAID 

dressed herself. Then she went to the 
cupboard, which was indeed bare, except 
for some cold porridge, and a half loaf of 
coarse bread. Cutting the bread into two 
pieces, she put one into the pocket of her 
jacket. Then the child knelt reverently, 
and clasping her hands, said : 

“Please God, let me find the gold for 
the dear mither, an’ please God tak’ care 
o’ me.” 

After this fervent little prayer, and a 
loving look toward the dark corner, where 
her mother still slept heavily, Janet 
stepped cautiously out, closing the cot- 
tage door noiselessly behind her. 

“I ’ll tak’ good care that the sheep dinna 
hear me or they’ll bleat; an’ wake the 
mither,” she said, as she crept by the fold; 
for the sheep all knew and loved the lit- 
tle maid. 

“Jamie ’ll have the care o’ ye the day 
23 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


alone, lammies, for I ’ll not be back till 
night.” 

At that moment Janet heard a rustling 
in the heather and a sound as of something 
rushing quickly toward her ! Then some- 
thing cold touched her hand ! Janet gave 
a little cry of fear, which ended in a 
laugh, as she recognized in her pursuer, 
Sandy, the collie-dog, whose ears had not 
been deaf to the sound of his little mis- 
tress’ footsteps. 

“Ye canna go this time, Sandy. Go, 
mind the sheep,” she said. At this com- 
mand, poor Sandy slunk reluctantly 
away, stopping occasionally to look back, 
ready to at once respond, should his mis- 
tress change her mind. Janet, the cool 
morning air fanning her hot cheeks, 
walked on through the dew-laden grass, 
till she reached the field where she and 
Jamie had had their talk the day before. 
24 


THE ECHO-MAID 


It had now grown a little lighter, and she 
could see dimly the frowning outlines of 
Mt. Enochan towering above her, a black 
spot on its side marking the Echo-Cave. 

Then Janet, her heart beating wildly, 
put both her hands to her mouth, and 
called loudly into the lonely morning : 

“Echo-Maid, tell me true if ye have the 
pot o’ gold?” 

Back came the answer distinct and un- 
mistakable : 

“Have the pot o’ gold.” 

“An’ will ye gie the gold to Janet Mc- 
Donald?” 

Here the gray mist rolled away from 
the cave, and louder, clearer than before 
came the answer: 

“Gie the gold to Janet McDonald.” 

Again the gray mist-wreaths hid the 
cave, but when Janet shouted, “I ’ll come 
for it!” the Echo-Maid’s voice, though 
25 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


faint, could yet be plainly heard, as she 
said : 

“Come for it!” 

And then for a moment, Janet’s heart 
sank, as she looked at the lonely mountain 
before her. It was, indeed, a terrible 
task that the timid little girl had set for 
herself. No one had ever ventured to go 
before. The way was well-nigh impass- 
able — no path, nothing to guide one — 
and then to face the Echo-Maid herself 
— well, no one as yet had had courage 
enough to undertake it. 

“But I willna turn back now,” said 
Janet. “She ’s told me that she has the 
gold, an’ that she ’ll gie it me. I must 
hurry on or the day ’ll soon be here, an’ 

I must be away from the dear mither’s 
call. I hope she willna worry, but if she 
worries the day, she ’ll be glad enough 
when I come back wi’ the pot o’ gold.” 

26 


THE ECHO-MAID 

Janet had first to cross the brook which 
flowed down through the valley. It was 
now a shallow, noisy stream, although the 
little girl had seen it when it ran silently, 
sullenly along, when no one could cross 
it in safety. Now, however, there was 
not the slightest difficulty in doing so, and 
Janet stepped lightly from stone to stone, 
scarcely wetting her little pink toes. On 
the other side, she stood a moment, look- 
ing at the frowning mountain which 
towered above. 

“This ’ll be the best way. Betune them 
twa high rocks — no, that wouldna do. I 
canna get over the edge, yonder. My 
way ’ll be to go first to yon grassy spot, 
an’ there I ’ll see which way is best.” 

The level, grassy spot reached, Janet 
found she had no choice in the matter. 
There was but one way up which it was 
possible for mortal to climb. On every 
27 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


other side rose inaccessible walls of gray 
rock. 

“That ’ll be the way the pirates took, 
an’ I think I ’ll be able to do it, too,” she 
said, and after a crumb of the hard bread 
which, as she had had no breakfast, tasted 
sweet, she started on her perilous journey. 
Janet was used to being by herself, but 
never will she forget the great loneliness 
of that journey up Mount Enochan. The 
knowledge that she was going where no 
foot had trod for so many years, and to 
meet — she knew not what, was enough to 
daunt the stoutest heart. 

“It ’s for the mither, an’ I asked God to 
tak’ care o’ me,” she said to herself, and 
went bravely on. 

Often the way was so steep, that she 
was obliged to pull herself up by the 
branches of trees. Many times she fell, 
28 


THE ECHO-MAID 


bruising, but fortunately not injuring her- 
self seriously. 

At one time, the path, which was no 
path, took a sudden turn to the left, bring- 
ing her to the edge of a precipice, and she 
found herself looking down on her home. 
She could see the familiar gray cottage, 
and the field where Jamie and Sandy 
were now minding the sheep — alone. 

“How high up I must ha’ came,” she 
said. “An’ it seems that I canna be verra 
far frae the Echo-Cave.” 

The sun was by this time high over her 
head, and Janet, feeling tired and dizzy, 
sat down to rest. It was a beautiful spot, 
a wild, grand view of moorland, with sea 
beyond. But the little girl was too much 
absorbed in her undertaking to be con- 
scious of anything but its loneliness. 
Her cheeks and hands were burning, and 
29 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


her head was throbbing with a dull pain. 
She tried to eat a bit of the bread in her 
pocket, but could not. She felt a burn- 
ing thirst, and looked about her for 
water, but there was none there. Then, 
leaning her hot head down on a cool 
stone, she closed her eyes and fell fast 
asleep. 

She was aroused from her heavy sleep 
by the feeling that she was not alone, that 
someone was near ! Opening her eyes she 
saw no one, but heard the sound of heavy, 
regular breathing, and she then became 
conscious that some animal was lying 
near her, his body pressed as close to her 
back as it could possibly be. Her heart 
beat quickly, while beads of perspiration 
stood on her forehead. Turning her head 
cautiously, she caught a glimpse of tawny, 
yellow fur. 


30 


THE ECHO-MAID 

“It ’ll be a lion!” she said, shaking with 
terror. Janet knew that lions were yel- 
low, but she did not know, poor little 
soul, that they never roam at large 
through the Scottish Highlands. 

“I dinna want ter be e’t by a lion,” she 
moaned, her breath coming in gasps. 
“Oh, God, send him awa’.” 

At that moment the supposed lion, find- 
ing that the little girl was awake, jumped 
up, and barked joyously! 

“Oh, Sandy, Sandy,” cried Janet. “Ye 
frightened me sair. An’ ye did n’t do as 
I bid ye. Ye did n’t go back, an’ mind 
the sheep,” but in her joy and relief the 
child put her two soft little arms round 
the dog’s neck, and kissed him on his dis- 
obedient forehead. 

“An’ now, Sandy, ye ’ll go home at 
once,” said Janet, sternly. But Sandy 
31 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


flatly rebelled. He evidently thought 
that the little girl did not know what she 
really did want. 

“I worked very hard to get up here, and 
to keep out of sight,” he thought. “It 
took all my collie-slyness to accomplish it, 
too. And she was evidently glad — de- 
lighted to see me, so I shall stay,” and 
Sandy lay down again and winked his 
bright eyes at his mistress while he fur- 
tively wagged his tail. But it was of no 
use. Janet was firm, and at last poor 
Sandy had to yield, and started slowly 
for home, his reproachful eyes fixed upon 
his little mistress to the last. 

Then Janet rose, and although feeling 
dizzy and far from well, went on, stum- 
bling occasionally from weakness. But 
she had been cheered by Sandy’s coming. 
Something of the awful loneliness of the 
journey had been taken away. Another 
32 


THE ECHO-MAID 


turn brought her opposite the Echo-Cave. 
Putting her hands to her mouth, Janet 
called : 

“Echo-Maid, am I coming the right 
way?” 

Swiftly, clearly came the answer, 
“The right way.” 

“The voice sounded kind,” said Janet. 
“Mayhap the Echo-Maid may be a gentle 
maid. An’ oh, I hope, I hope she ’ll be 
willin’ to gie me the gold. But she said 
she wad, an’ when I tell her o’ poor mither, 
I know she ’ll do it.” 

Up, up, and still up, climbed the child, 
stopping sometimes for a moment’s rest, 
for she was now so high on the mountain, 
that she found it hard to breathe. And 
at last, Janet, knew that her journey was 
ended, for she found herself standing by 
the ledge, which she felt sure must form 
the side wall of the Echo-Cave itself. 


33 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Echo-Maid!” she called softly, but 
there was no answer. “I suppose she ’ll 
be inside the cave, an’ I ’ll ha’ to enter it; 
but how?” For Janet saw no way of en- 
tering, save from the front, swinging 
herself round the wall, and into the cave. 
But there was scarce foothold there, and 
brave as she was, she shuddered when she 
looked down into the horrible yawning 
abyss below. She examined the place 
more carefully. 

“Now, if the wall be not too thick,” she 
said, “I mought hold by yon hanging vine, 
and swing mesel’ into the cave beyant. 
The vine is strong enough, I know. An’ 
if the wall prove thick, mayhap I could 
swing mesel’ down from the top o’ the 
cave, into it. But first I ’ll try how thick 
the wall is.” So, holding the strong vine 
firmly with her left hand, she stretched 
her right arm as far as it would reach, and 
34 


THE ECHO-MAID 


found to her joy, that the wall of rock on 
that side, was not more than a foot in 
width. Then ’t would be an easy matter 
for her to step on a narrow projecting bit 
of rock and swing herself into the cave, 
steadying herself by the vine. This she 
did, being careful not to look down, lest 
dizziness should overcome her. And then 
Janet found herself at last, standing in 
the cave of the Echo-Maid ! 

At first she could see nothing, the cave 
being large and dark. “Echo-Maid,” she 
called, timidly. 

“Echo-Maid? Who calls the Echo- 
Maid?” answered a clear, sweet, low 
voice, and Janet gazing into the darkness 
whence the sound had come, saw, gliding 
towards her — the Echo-Maid herself ! 

And many a time since, but in vain, did 
Janet try to describe the beauty and 
witchery of the maid. A tall, slender, 
35 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


graceful figure, clad in floating garments 
of shadowy gray; long, floating gray-gold 
hair, and large, wild, dark eyes, tender 
and innocent, that looked now at Janet, 
wide open with curiosity and astonish- 
ment. 

“Oh, Echo-Maid,” said little Janet, 
tremulously. “I ’m Janet McDonald. 
I mind the Laird’s sheep, and I live in the 
bit gray cottage down below. An’ I ’ll 
tell ye how ’t was. Jamie, him that lives 
in the village of Dunarroch, tol’ me, how 
that long ago the pirates brought the pot o’ 
gold up o’er the rocks, and left it here in 
the Cave o’ the Echo-Maid — your cave — 
me Leddy,” and here Janet courtesied 
low. “An’ I thought, ye see, that mayhap 
you ’d be willin’ to gie us some o’ the gold. 
I thought you couldna ha’ much use for it 
yersel’. An’ mither needs it. Oh, Echo- 
Maid, an’ ye could know how sair the dear 


THE ECHO-MAID 


mither needs it, ye wad gie some o’t to us.” 
Here Janet’s voice broke, and kneeling 
before the Maid, she stretched out both 
arms toward her, and said, the tears 
streaming down her sweet little face, 
“Dear Echo-Maid, ye will gie us the pot 
o’ gold, won’t ye? Won t ye?” 

The Echo-Maid gave no answer for 
some time, but stood there still gazing in 
silent amazement at Janet. At last she 
spoke, and her voice was like sweet music 
to the child’s ears: 

“And you are a little girl,” she said, 
“the first I have ever seen. I have seen 
no one for many long years, and glad, 
glad indeed am I that you have come to 
me, Janet McDonald. For my life is a 
lonely one. I hear them calling from be- 
low, but I cannot talk with them. I can 
only repeat what they say. Only once 
before has the foot of mortal entered this 
37 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


cave, and that was more than a hundred 
years ago.” 

“An’ were ye alive then?” interrupted 
Janet. 

“I was then as I am now. We Echo- 
Maids never change. 

“An 5 are there more of ye, then?” asked 
Janet. “I thought there was but one . 55 

“More of us?” laughed the Maid. 
“Wherever there are rocks and hills, there 
are Echo-Maids — my sisters. This cave 
is my home. My care it is to give back 
the words which are sent up from below, 
repeating only what I hear.” 

“But, Echo-Maid , 55 said Janet, “you 
are talking to me now . 55 

“Ah, yes , 55 said the Maid. “You came 
to me, entered the cave. I can talk — if 
one comes to me. But till now, no one 
has come, that is, not for many years. 
More than a hundred years ago, on a wild, 
38 


THE ECHO-MAID 


dark night, some rough men came to my 
cave/’ (“ ’T was the pirates,” whispered 
Janet.) “They brought with them a 
vessel filled with round, yellow things,” 
(“The pot o’ gold,” said Janet.) “and 
then they went away. From what they 
said, I judged that they were coming 
again to take it away, but all that night 
the heavy rain fell, and the thunder rolled 
from crag to crag, till I was hoarse with 
throwing the sound back from my cave. 
And the next day the rain fell, and the 
next, and then from before my very door, 
earth, rocks, and trees were torn away, 
leaving me here on the edge of this preci- 
pice, and believing that no one could 
ever again intrude on my solitude. And 
child, how did you enter the cave? How 
did you do what I supposed was not pos- 
sible for mortal to do?” 

“D’ ye see yon vine hangin’ down from 

39 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the top, an’ coverin’ the entrance a bit?” 
asked Janet. “Well, I caught hold o’ 
that to steady mesel’ an’ stepped on the 
bit ledge there, then put me arm round 
the rock, an’ drew mesel’ in. But Echo- 
Maid — tell me — the pirates that cam’ 
here. Where did they pit the pot o’ 
gold?” asked Janet. 

“There,” and the Maid pointed with 
her shadowy arm. 

“May I look?” asked Janet, and walked 
further into the cave. At first she could 
see nothing, but groped blindly on. 
Then, her eyes having become accus- 
tomed to the darkness, she searched 
eagerly from side to side, but for some 
time could find nothing. At last, behind 
a jutting point of rock she stumbled 
against something. It was an iron kettle 
which, she could dimly see, was filled with 
something bright and shining. With 
40 


THE ECHO-MAID 


great difficulty she dragged this to the 
mouth of the cave, where in the light she 
saw — what she had been looking for — 
the pot o’ gold! 

The Echo-Maid stood near, looking at 
Janet with interest and amusement. 

“Is it not pretty? Would you like to 
play with it?” she asked. 

“Oh, dinna ye mean to gie me some o’ 
these?” asked Janet. 

“You may have them all,” said the 
Maid, smiling kindly at the little girl, 
who thanked her with her heart full of 
gratitude. 

Just then Janet noticed that the cave 
had become strangely dark, and running 
to the entrance, she looked out. The sky, 
so clear and blue but a short time before, 
was now covered with angry, threatening 
clouds, which chased each other madly 
across it. The sun, a red ball of fire, was 
41 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


sinking in the sea. Then came a blinding 
flash of lightning, and Janet appalled, 
retreated to the back of the cave. 

“It ’ll be a bad thunder-storm,” she said, 
“an’ I must wait till it is o’er. It ’ll bring 
me late home, but I canna help it. Jamie 
an’ Sandy must drive down the sheep 
alone. The poor mither ’ll be afeared for 
me, but she willna mind when she sees the 
pot o’ gold,” and Janet smiled as she 
thought of her mother’s surprise and 
pleasure. Then, sitting down on a rock, 
the little girl ate her last piece of bread. 

Meanwhile, the storm, instead of ceas- 
ing, as she hoped, became more violent. 
The lightning flashed almost without 
ceasing, while the crashing of the thunder 
echoing from crag to crag, was deafening. 
And the gentle Echo-Maid had changed. 
She had become the Spirit of the Storm 
itself, and stood there, her figure swaying 
42 


THE ECHO-MAID 


from side to side, her arms outstretched, 
calling — calling — calling! Janet trem- 
bled as she watched her, fearing — she 
knew not what. 

After a long while, the lightning-flashes 
grew less, the thunder rolled sullenly, but 
the rain fell in torrents. Then the Echo- 
Maid glided to Janet’s side, and said in 
her sweet, low voice : 

“Were you frightened, little one?” 

“Yes,” said Janet, “an’ I fear me, I ’ll 
have to stay the night here, as I canna find 
my way in the dark and the rain.” 

“Oh yes, you will stay,” said the Echo- 
Maid. 

Then, overcome by fatigue, Janet with 
one arm tightly clasping the pot of gold, 
leaned her head against the cold rock of 
the cave, and in spite of the noise made by 
the rain, which was still coming down in 
torrents, fell fast asleep. She had slept 
43 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


for several hours, when she was aroused 
by a strange, hoarse, rumbling noise. 
She started up in alarm, at first not know- 
ing where she was, and listening in terror 
to the grinding, tearing sounds which 
seemed to come from all sides at once. 
The noise grew louder, and the cave 
rocked from side to side. Louder, and 
louder yet, grew the uproar, ending at last 
in a mighty echoing crash, which shook 
the very earth! Then followed silence, 
broken only by the steady downpour of 
the rain. 

“Echo-Maid!” screamed Janet, in ter- 
ror. “What was that? What has hap- 
pened?” 

“Do not be afraid, little girl,” said the 
reassuring voice of the Echo-Maid. 
“The danger is passed — we are safe. 
The rain has been falling for hours. It 
has loosened the earth and stones and part 
44 


THE ECHO-MAID 

of the mountain has fallen. It has been 
a wild storm. Rest now. In the morn- 
ing we shall see.” 

But Janet had been too thoroughly 
frightened to rest easily again, and fell 
into a troubled sleep from which she was 
aroused by the loud cry of “Janet! 

Janet!” 

“Yes, I am coming,” she answered, still 
half asleep, while the Echo-Maid glided 
quickly past her to the entrance of the 
cave, and threw back the call, “Janet! 
Janet!” 

Again came the cry, an agonized cry, 
from below : 

“Janet! Where are ye*?” 

“Where are ye 1 ?” repeated the Echo- 
Maid. 

But Janet, now fully aroused, sprang to 
her feet, for she had recognized the voice 
of her mother. Running to the front of 
45 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the cave, she was about to call, when the 
Echo-Maid turned fiercely upon her, and 
waved her back. 

“But, Echo-Maid,” said poor little 
Janet. “The mither calls. I must an- 
swer.” 

“No voice, but the voice of the Echo, 
must answer from this cave,” said the 
Maid, sternly. And Janet, though long- 
ing to respond to her mother’s call, was 
obliged to obey. The calling ceased, and 
the Maid, once more her gentle self, 
turned and smiled at the little girl. 

“An’ now, Echo-Maid, I see that the 
storm is o’er an’ I must go,” said Janet. 
“I must go at once.” 

“Go?” said the Maid, in astonishment. 
“Are you then going to leave me? I 
thought you would stay with me forever.” 

“Oh, no,” said Janet. “I cam’ here for 
the pot o’ gold.” 


46 


THE ECHO-MAID 


“But I have given you the pot o’ gold, 
and will you not stay here and play with it 
and with me*?” asked the Maid, sadly. 

“Oh, I canna, I canna,” said Janet. “I 
must go. An’ dear Echo-Maid, from the 
bottom o’ my heart I thank ye for the 
gold, an’ for yer kindness.” And Janet 
dropped a courtesy. “It wad mak’ ye 
happy, indeed, cud ye but know what the 
gold ’ll do for us.” 

Then Janet tried to lift the pot, but 
finding it much too heavy to carry, set 
it down again in perplexity. 

“Whatever ’ll I do now?” she said. 
“I canna carry it down the mountain.” 

“Can you not throw the gold over the 
precipice, as I throw back the words?” 
suggested the Maid. 

“Why yes, so I can,” said Janet, 
“that ’ll be the way, an’ when I get down 
I will gather it in my apron.” 

47 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Finding the pot too heavy to empty all 
at once, she knelt beside it, and gather- 
ing handful after handful of the glitter- 
ing gold, threw it down over the cliff, 
until the pot was quite empty. 

“An’ now, dear Echo-Maid, I ’ll bid ye 
good-bye,” she said. “I ’ll never forget 
ye. An’ when I ’m below, I ’ll often call 
up to ye. An’ ye will answer?” 

“Will answer,” said the Maid sadly. 

“Good-bye, good-bye,” said Janet, the 
tears standing in her blue eyes. 

“Good-bye,” echoed the Maid. Then 
grasping the vine firmly with her hand, 
Janet swung herself to the other side of 
the wall of rock, — only to shrink back 
into the cave again with a cry of horror ! 

“ Oh , oh!” she said, and sinking, a 
miserable little heap on the floor of the 
cave, she covered her face with her hands 
48 


THE ECHO-MAID 


and cried aloud. The sight that Janet 
had seen was enough to appall the stout- 
est heart. For the path by which she had 
come, had disappeared! Instead of the 
solid earth she expected, she found her- 
self looking into a yawning abyss, a 
sheer smooth wall of rock, a precipice, 
down which it would be impossible for 
anyone to climb! 

“Why do you weep? What has hap- 
pened?” asked the Echo-Maid. 

“Oh, oh!” moaned Janet. “I canna go. 
I can never go. The mountain has fell 
away. Whatever shall I do? What- 
ever shall I do?” 

“Do? You will stay with me, little 
Earth-Child! Stay with me always,” 
said the Echo-Maid, joyously. 

“No, no,” moaned Janet, “if I canna 
get awa’ I shall die. I canna live in this 

49 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

cave wi’ out food an’ water. An’ I am 
so thirsty now, so thirsty an’ so hot and 
burning.” 

The Echo-Maid looked at her with 
troubled eyes, for the necessity of food 
and drink she could not understand. 

“An’ the mither ’ll never know what 
becam’ o’ me,” moaned Janet. “She ’ll 
never know how I cam’ to get the pot o’ 
gold, an’ how it ’s lyin’ now for her under 
the trees. An’ Jamie ’ll ha’ to tend the 
sheep alone wi’ Sandy. Poor Sandy, I ’m 
sorry I sent him back,” and here the child 
threw herself down on the floor of the 
cave, sobbing bitterly. 

For hours she lay there on the cold 
stone, muttering to herself and moaning, 
but in the late afternoon, when the sun 
shone slantwise into the cave, the Echo- 
Maid came joyously to Janet, rousing 
her with these words : 


50 


THE ECHO-MAID 


“Earth-Child, listen. You can escape. 
There is a way.” 

Janet, though weak and ill, started up 
at the hope conveyed in these words. 

“An’ how? How can I escape?” she 
asked. 

“Come,” said the Maid, and Janet fol- 
lowed her to the front of the cave. 

“You told me, child, that with the help 
of this vine, you swung yourself into the 
cave. Now, can you not in the same way, 
by the aid of the vine, let yourself down 
to the earth below?” 

“Oh no, I canna,” said Janet. “It 
wad break, and I should be killed.” 

“It cannot break,” said the Echo-Maid. 
“I have seen trees uprooted by the winter 
storms, and the vine has swayed and 
bent, but never broken. I have seen 
rocks hurled from their places by the 
weight of snow and ice, but this vine has 

51 


THE LISTEN TO ME STOBIES 

stood firm. And look above where the 
gnarled roots have forced their way into 
the cave itself. No human weight could 
possibly dislodge them.” 

“An’ wad the vine be long enough?” 
asked Janet, doubtingly. 

“As I look down,” answered the Echo- 
Maid, “I see far below, the swaying vine, 
till it is lost in a sea of green, for tall 
trees rise to meet it.” 

“An’ ye think I could slide down by the 
vine, till I met the trees, an’ then let 
mesel’ to the ground,” said Janet. “Well 
— I can but try, for I know I canna stay 
here. An’ I ’ll call up to ye, Echo-Maid, 
when I ’m once safe below.” 

Then, grasping the stout vine firmly 
with both little brown hands, Janet slides 
slowly, carefully, down, down, down. 
She has reached the trees now, and grasp- 
ing the top branch of one firmly, and 
52 


THE ECHO-MAID 


loosening her hold of the vine, which 
sways back against the rock, she lightly 
swings herself from branch to branch, 
and is half way down the tree, her journey 
almost ended, when the poor little maid 
who has gone through so much in safety, 
and with so stout a heart, is suddenly 
seized with an attack of dizziness. Put- 
ting out her hand, she tries in vain, to 
grasp the branch beside her to steady 
herself. She misses it, and falls — heavily 
— to the ground, where she lies uncon- 
scious. And many days must pass before 
she is able to call to the Echo-Maid, as 
she promised. 


53 


II 


O N the morning of the day that Janet 
left the house to search for the pot 
of gold, Mrs. McDonald awoke and was 
surprised to find that it was so late and 
that Janet had gone to the sheep-fold, 
without calling her. Opening the cup- 
board and finding that half the loaf of 
bread was gone, she said : 

“Then Janet canna be ill the morn, as 
I feared last night she wad be.” So, 
with a thankful heart, she warmed the 
porridge for her own breakfast, and 
hurried to her day’s work at the castle. 
Passing the sheep-fold, she noticed that 
it was empty. 

“Jamie and Janet must ha’ driven the 
sheep to the hill,” she thought. 

54 


THE ECHO-MAID 


All day the good woman worked with 
no idea of the trouble that was awaiting 
her at home. Late in the afternoon, the 
young Laird and his bride arrived at the 
castle. 

On seeing Mrs. McDonald, the Laird 
said to his wife : 

“Geraldine, you have often heard me 
speak of Thomas McDonald. This is his 
widow.” 

They both spoke many kind words to 
Mrs. McDonald, and she was greatly 
pleased when they enquired for Janet, 
and said that some day they would ride 
over the hill and see the little cottage. 

On her way home, Mrs. McDonald 
went through the village of Dunarroch, 
and with the money she had earned that 
day, bought a few little luxuries for their 
supper, and a pair of shoes for Janet, 
“that she may be decent when the Leddy 
55 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


comes,” she said. Then, although tired 
with her day’s work, she walked briskly 
home with a light heart. As she came 
over the hill, she noticed that the sky had 
become overcast, and that the wind was 
rising. “There ’ll be a storm the night,” 
she said, and hurried on. 

When she came within sight of the cot- 
tage she was surprised to see no light 
there. She opened the door. “Janet?” 
she said. There was no answer. The 
room was as she had left it in the morn- 
ing. No light — no fire. Janet had evi- 
dently not been there. 

At this moment, Sandy came in at the 
door, whining piteously. 

“Sandy,” asked Mrs. McDonald, 
“where is she? where is Janet?” but the 
dog only answered by another pitiful 
whine. Mrs. McDonald, now thoroughly 
56 


THE ECHO-MAID 


alarmed, walked out to the sheep-fold 
and called loudly : 

“Janet! Janet!” but the bleating of the 
sheep and the sighing of the wind in the 
trees, was her only answer. Then came 
a flash of lightning, followed by thunder. 
The storm was coming. 

Into the cottage she went again, and 
searched everywhere for the child, whom 
she hoped to find asleep. 

“I ’ll go ask Jamie. He ’ll know,” she 
said at last. So, followed by Sandy, the 
poor tired woman ran the whole way back* 
to Dunarroch, and burst into the cottage 
where Jamie sat eating his supper. 

“Where ’s Janet*?” she gasped. 

“I dunno,” said Jamie, his mouth full 
of porridge. 

“Was she na wi’ ye the day?” 

“No,” said Jamie, “an’ she should ha’ 

57 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


been. She had no right to le’ me to mind 
the sheep alone, the whole day.” 

“She wasna wi’ ye?” cried Mrs. Mc- 
Donald, seizing him by the arm. “Oh 
Jamie, Jamie, then she’s lost. Janet’s 
lost. I ’ve searched over all, an’ called 
till I ’m hoarse. Where will she be ?” 

'’''Janet lost?” cried Jamie, springing 
to his feet, all thought of supper forgot- 
ten. “Not lost. We ’ll find her, Mrs. 
McDonald;” and calling to his father, 
the three left the cottage. Two or three 
neighbors joined them on the way, bring- 
ing torches. “It ’ll be a wild night for 
a bairn to be out on the moor alone,” said 
one to another. 

Before they reached the McDonald 
cottage, the storm burst upon them. 
Flash after flash of blinding lightning 
followed by peal after peal of echoing 
thunder. Reaching the cottage, they 
58 


THE ECHO-MAID 


began their search for Janet. Inside and 
out, then into the sheep-fold they went, 
startling the animals from their slumber. 
Then up into the grazing-field, where the 
sheep had been through the day. Here 
they called, “Janet! Janet!” but only 
the echo responded “ Janet .” 

As they stood there listening, the 
drenching rain came down upon them, 
extinguishing their torches, and forcing 
them to go down again into the cot- 
tage for shelter. The men, now thor- 
oughly alarmed for the safety of the 
child, sat by the fire, whispering together, 
while two women who had come up from 
the village forced poor Mrs. McDonald 
to eat something and lie down, for in such 
a storm they knew it was impossible to 
continue the search. The hours dragged 
slowly on, broken only by the sound of 
the rain, which fell in torrents. The 

59 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


neighbors who had come, stayed at the 
cottage through the night, poor Jamie, 
his head buried in his hands, crying and 
dozing, alternately. Sandy passed his 
time in going from one to another, whin- 
ing pitifully. 

Suddenly, everyone started to his feet 
in alarm! What was it? What had 
happened? From the opposite mountain 
was heard a strange, hoarse, rumbling 
noise which grew louder and louder, end- 
ing at last in a mighty crash , which shook 
the little cottage to its foundation ! 

Then all was still, save for the howling 
of the wind, and the downpour of the 
rain. 

“It ’ll be a landslide on Mount Eno- 
chan,” said one of the men. 

“A landslide?” cried Mrs. McDonald, 
“and mayhap my Janet is there an’ buried 
6o 


THE ECHO-MAID 


beneath it,” and the poor woman ran 
wildly to the door. 

“Are ye mad, Mrs. McDonald?” said 
one of the women, holding her back. “If 
ye couldna find her in the light, what 
could ye do in the dark, an’ the pourin’ 
rain? When the storm is o’er, we’ll all 
go wi’ ye, but now we can do naught.” 

Convinced, poor Mrs. McDonald sat 
down again and waited, and at last, at 
daybreak, the rain ceased. Then the 
women prepared a hurried breakfast, but 
Mrs. McDonald, unable to eat a mouth- 
ful, ran alone to the grazing-field, and 
called frantically: 

“Janet! Janet! Where are ye?” 

From the Echo-Cave above came the 
answer clearly: 

“Janet! Where are ye?” but no other 
sound was heard. Here, Sandy, who had 
6l 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


been for some time acting strangely, 
began violently tugging at Mrs. Mc- 
Donald’s apron! 

“What is it, Sandy, mon?” she asked. 
Then an idea suddenly came to her as she 
turned toward the dog. 

“Mayhap Sandy knows where Janet is, 
and wants me to follow him. Is it Janet, 
Sandy?” she asked. At this the dog 
wagged his tail, and barked furiously. 
Hurrying down toward the cottage, to 
tell them of the hint which Sandy had 
given, Mrs. McDonald was met not only 
by those she had left behind, but by 
almost the entire village, including the 
young minister and the school-master, 
who, hearing of the poor woman’s trouble, 
had come to offer help. 

“Sagacity is given to the brutes. No 
doubt the beastie knows where the child 
is. Let us follow him,” said the minister, 
62 


THE ECHO-MAID 

when Mrs. McDonald had told him of 
Sandy’s strange behavior. 

“Sandy, go find Janet,” commanded 
Mrs. McDonald, and the dog, with a 
joyous bark, led the way down toward the 
ravine and brook, followed by all. But 
the brook was not the peaceful stream of 
yesterday, which the little girl had found 
so easy to cross by the stepping-stones. 
Swollen by the recent rains, it was now 
a brawling, turbulent stream. Although 
Sandy had no difficulty in crossing it, the 
others paused to discuss as to whether 
’t were better to ford it here, or go down 
a half mile to the bridge. Just then the 
sound of a quickly galloping horse was 
heard, and in a few moments the young 
Laird was among them. 

“I have heard of your trouble, Mrs. 
McDonald,” he said, “and have come to 
offer help.” 


63 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“ I thank yer Honor / 5 said the poor 
woman. “We ’re hopin’ we ’re on the 
right track now. We ’re follerin’ the 
dog. But the stream is so full wi’ the 
rain, that we canna get easy across.” 

The Laird took in the situation at a 
glance. 

“Those of you, who wish, can ford the 
stream,” he said, “the others can go down 
to the bridge, but I will take Mrs. Mc- 
Donald over on my horse.” 

This was done, and they were soon 
safely on the other side. Sandy darted 
eagerly on. He fully expected to find 
his little mistress on the spot high up on 
the mountain where he had reluctantly 
parted from her, only the day before. 
Panting with excitement, he jumped from 
rock to rock, stopping every now and 
then to wait for the others. He was 
nearing the spot, when, judge of the poor 

64 


THE ECHO-MAID 


faithful creature’s surprise and disap- 
pointment, when he found the way 
blocked by a high, impassable wall of 
earth, rocks, and trees! 

One by one the climbers reached the spot 
and gazed appalled. 

“ ’T is the landslide,” they whispered, 
“an’ if the bairn was there last night — ” 
but no one finished the sentence. 

“Why should she be on Mount Eno- 
chan?” said one. “No one ever comes 
here, except, perhaps the pirates, long 
ago.” 

The pirates! These words had sug- 
gested an idea to Jamie, and he cried 
out: 

“The pot o’ gold! ’T was the pot o’ 
gold,” and then the boy told the story. 
How, when he and Janet had been mind- 
ing the sheep, she had asked him to tell 
her about the pirates. And when he had 
65 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


told her that he thought the pirates had 
put the gold into the Echo-Maid’s Cave 
on Mount Enochan, she had begged him 
to go with her and ask the Echo-Maid 
for some of it for her mother, who was 
so very poor. But he had told her he was 
afraid to go, and Janet had seemed to 
be afraid, too, “an’ I didna think, that she 
wad dare to go alone. An’ now,” sobbed 
Jamie, “I ’m afeared she did go, an’ oh, 
how I wisht I ’d stopped her.” 

The boy’s story and the conduct of the 
dog, seemed to point to the truth of the 
idea that poor, brave, little Janet had 
really gone up Mount Enochan, and 
made the attempt to get the gold. 

Mrs. McDonald accepted this idea as 
final. She threw herself down on the 
ground and wept in agony, for she fully 
believed that her child was lying there, 
buried under the mass of earth. The 
66 


THE ECHO-MAID 


faithful dog, crouching by her side, licked 
her hand in mute sympathy. Occasion- 
ally he would look up towards the spot 
where he had last seen his little mistress, 
and howl piteously. Woman and dog 
were mourning their dead. 

The Laird, greatly touched, now said: 

“My dear Mrs. McDonald, let us not 
yet give up all hope. If Janet wished 
to reach the cave, might she not have 
tried to climb up the precipice at the 
front?’ 

“No, yer Honor,” was the answer, “ ’t is 
too steep. There wadna be foothold 
there, even for a goat.” 

“But,” said the Laird, “Janet is only 
a child and without judgment. She 
might have tried to climb up and have 
fallen back, and may be lying there now. 
I will search there, anyway.” So leaving 
his horse in care of Jamie’s father, and 
67 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


calling to Sandy, he started. And Sandy, 
hopeless and unwilling, followed. 

The others, believing further search to 
be useless, persuaded Mrs. McDonald to 
go home. Instead of fording the stream, 
they all walked slowly down to the bridge 
which led to Dunarroch, leaving Jamie 
and his father alone with the Laird’s 
horse. 

The Laird, meanwhile, with Sandy at 
his heels, walked on, directly toward the 
precipice under the cave. As he ap- 
proached and looked up, he was appalled 
at its height. 

“They were right,” he said. “No one 
would attempt to scale that wall.” 

At this point, Sandy suddenly stopped, 
and stood as if turned to stone, his head 
up, his nose sniffing the air! Then with 
a loud yelp, he bounded forward and 
disappeared in a clump of trees, at the 
68 


THE ECHO-MAID 


foot of the precipice. The Laird, led by 
the joyous barking of the dog, followed 
quickly, and there — under the trees, with 
Sandy standing beside her, licking her 
face — lay poor, little Janet McDon- 
ald ! Stooping over the unconscious 
figure, the Laird found that she was still 
breathing. She was not dead. Lifting 
her up tenderly, and preceded by the now 
frantically barking Sandy, he carried her 
to the place where he had left his horse. 
Jamie and his father, hearing the Laird’s 
call, and suspecting from Sandy’s joyous 
bark, what had happened, came eagerly 
forward to meet them, with Selim — the 
horse. 

“Is she dead?” called Jamie, when he 
saw Janet lying in the Laird’s arms. 

“No, she is still living. Here, Angus,” 
said the Laird, speaking to Jamie’s father, 
“hold the child till I mount.” 

69 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


When the Laird was mounted, Angus 
placed Janet in his arms, and Selim, who 
seemed to recognize the necessity for 
caution, stepped slowly and carefully 
over the stones. The Laird feared to 
cross the stream with his burden, though 
it was a much nearer way. 

“I must go down by the bridge,” he 
said, “but do you ford the stream, Angus, 
and tell the good news to Mrs. Mc- 
Donald, and do you, Jamie, run across 
the short way to Dunarroch, and tell 
the doctor to come at once to the cot- 
tage.” 

When the Laird reached the cottage, 
with the still unconscious Janet in his 
arms, he was received with shouts of joy 
by all the village people, and there was 
not a dry eye among them, when Janet 
was restored to her mother’s arms. 

The doctor, who was already there, now 


THE ECHO-MAID 


came forward, and ordered them all to 
go home and leave the house quiet. 

“I will give ye the news of her, the 
night,” he told them. 

For several days Janet lay on her little 
bed, very ill. The Laird and his Lady 
came every day to enquire for her, but 
were met always by the same answer, 
“Still alive, but no better.” 

And one day, the village doctor told the 
Laird that he would like to have one of 
the great doctors from the city come to 
see the child, “for I fear,” he said, “that 
the case is beyond my skill.” 

“The brave child shall have the best 
doctor in Edinboro’,” said the Laird, and 
he telegraphed to Sir Andrew Anderson, 
who arrived the next day at Dunarroch 
Castle. In the afternoon, he, accom- 
panied by Lady Geraldine and the Laird 
came to the cottage. Sir Andrew, to 
71 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


whom they had told the story of Janet’s 
search for the pot of gold, was much 
interested in the brave little girl. The 
village doctor was at the cottage to meet 
them, and the two went inside while 
Lady Geraldine and the Laird waited 
anxiously for the verdict. 

Janet lay in her little white bed, rest- 
lessly tossing from side to side. She 
looked at Sir Andrew with wide-open, 
yet unseeing eyes, and stretching out her 
arms to him, cried piteously : 

“Oh, won’t ye gie me the pot o’ gold'? 
’T is for the mither I ask it. She ’s so 
poor. Ah, ’t was so hard to get to the 
cave, an’ could ye na gie me a little 1 ? 
The mither said ’t wad tak’ but a little 
gold to mak’ her happy.” 

In half an hour, Sir Andrew came out. 

“Well?” said Lady Geraldine, breath- 
lessly. 


72 


THE ECHO-MAID 


“The case is simply this,” said Sir 
Andrew. “The child is suffering from a 
fever, brought on by several causes. In 
talking with the mother, I find that they 
have been in actual want, and that for 
some time past, they have not had suf- 
ficient food to eat.” 

“Oh,” groaned the Laird. “I knew 
nothing of this. I was away.” 

“Mrs. McDonald says that Janet had 
not been well for several days,” continued 
the doctor, “and these facts and the ex- 
posure to the storm on the moor, have 
brought on this fever.” 

“And do you think,” asked Geraldine, 
“that she really did try to climb into the 
Echo-Cave ?” 

“She may have done so, but be that as 
it may, she probably wandered up and 
down the mountain for hours, and she 
must have been lying under the trees for 
73 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


a long time before the Laird discovered 
her. Judging from her ravings, she 
thinks that she has been in the cave, seen 
the Echo-Maid and the gold. Her con- 
stant cry is: ‘Gie it to me! Gie me the 
gold!’ ” 

“Oh, Kenneth,” said Geraldine, “have 
you not some gold pieces now in your 
pocket? Here give them to me. I may 
put them into her hand, Doctor?” and 
receiving his permission, Geraldine glided 
to the bed. 

“Gie me the gold,” cried Janet. 

“Yes, child, here is the gold,” said 
Geraldine, softly, putting it in her hands. 

Then Janet, clasping it tightly, and 
looking up into the beautiful face bend- 
ing over her, framed in its golden hair, 
said joyfully: 

“ ’T is the Echo-Maid hersel’ ! Oh, 
thank ye. Thank ye, Echo-Maid!” and 
74 


THE ECHO-MAID 


almost immediately fell into a quiet sleep, 
the first she had known since she had been 
brought home. 

“That was an inspiration, Lady Geral- 
dine, 5 ’ said the doctor, as they drove back 
to the castle. “I think now, that with 
the aid of your village doctor, and with 
Mrs. McDonald’s good nursing (and she 
is evidently a capital nurse) the child 
may pull through. Fine mountain and 
sea air and pure water, what more could 
one wish? I would send some of my own 
patients here to get well, were there any 
good house for them to go to.” 

And Janet did recover — recovered 
rapidly. There was no lack of good food 
now at the cottage. Lady Geraldine saw 
to that. 

One day, when Janet was able to sit 
out of doors, she told the whole story of 
her search for the pot of gold from the 
75 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


beginning to the end to the Laird and 
Lady Geraldine, who sat near her. 

“An’ now, I ’m wearyin’ to go an’ pick 
up the gold I threw down,” she said. 

So a few days later, Lady Geraldine, 
the Laird and Janet went to the precipice, 
Janet seated on Selim’s back, for she was 
not yet strong enough to walk so far. 
Before they reached the place, the Laird 
said to her : 

“Janet, suppose the gold is not there?” 

“Ah, but it must be there, yer Honor, 
for I threw it down,” she said. 

“But it may not be there now,” con- 
tinued the Laird, “and if it be not, do not 
grieve. When you come back I have 
something to tell you.” 

Then he lifted Janet from Selim’s back, 
and with quickly beating heart the little 
girl ran alone to the place where she ex- 
pected to see the gold. 

76 


THE ECHO-MAID 


But when she reached the spot she 
looked eagerly around to find, alas, that 
there was no gold there! Search as she 
would, not a piece could she find. Then 
Janet sat down, and burying her face in 
her hands, wept bitterly. And so the 
Laird and Lady Geraldine (who had 
walked slowly after) found her. 

“Janet,” said the sweet voice of Lady 
Geraldine. “The Laird has something 
to say to you, dear,” and the little girl 
choked back her sobs to listen. 

“ ’T is for the mither I greet,” she said. 

“What I wish to say to you, Janet, is 
this,” said the Laird. “You have not 
found the gold here, it is true, but — now 
remember what I say — some day, I prom- 
ise that you shall have the pot o’ gold, 
and then you can give it to your mother.” 

“Then ’t was you, yer Honor, that 
gathered up the gold,” said Janet. 

77 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Well,” said the Laird, smiling, “that 
is my secret, little girl.” 

Then they went home, Janet quite com- 
forted. Mrs. McDonald was needed now 
every day at the castle, and as she could 
not leave the little girl alone, it was pro- 
posed that she take her with her, and 
close the cottage. This was done, and 
Jamie and Sandy tended the sheep alone. 
Sandy slept in the fold at night, and be- 
came sterner than ever with the sheep. 
Janet was allowed to do no work, but was 
told to run about and get well as fast as 
she could. Mrs. McDonald was smil- 
ingly mysterious these days, and for some 
reason Janet was forbidden to go to the 
cottage. 

Then came a wonderful day — the hap- 
piest in Janet’s life. The day when she 
was nine years old. Her mother, who 
78 


THE ECHO-MAID 


had finished her work at the castle, went 
back to the cottage in the morning, and 
in the afternoon Janet followed with the 
Laird and Lady Geraldine. As they 
began to ascend the hill, what was the 
child’s amazement, to see in the place of 
the little gray cottage, a beautiful new 
house ! * 

“What is that? What does it mean'?” 
gasped Janet, looking from Lady Geral- 
dine to the Laird. 

“Tell her,” said the Laird. 

“It means,” said Lady Geraldine, smil- 
ing kindly at her, “that the Laird and I 
have built this house. Sir Andrew Ander- 
son, the great Edinboro’ doctor, whom we 
had up to see you, Janet, when you were 
ill, was charmed with this spot and 
wanted just such a place for some of his 
patients to get well in, so we thought we 
79 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


would build this house for that purpose. 
And as your mother is such a good nurse 
and cook, she is to have charge of it.” 

They drove first to the kitchen-door, 
where Mrs. McDonald stood smilingly 
awaiting them, and then the four walked 
admiringly through the house. Upstairs 
there were six pretty bedrooms and from 
the windows a fine view of Mount Eno- 
chan, the valley, and sea beyond. 

“Oh, Mither, Mither!” cried Janet, 
throwing her arms round her mother’s 
neck. “How kind they are! An’ won’t 
we tak’ fine care o’ their beautiful new 
house?” 

“Come now, all of you,” said the Laird 
cheerily, as he led the way to the front 
of the house, and out of the door. “I 
have something outside to show you, 
Janet, and something to say to you, too.” 
So taking the little girl by the hand, and 
80 


THE ECHO-MAID 


followed by the others, he led her out of 
the door and on to the grass at the front 
of the house. 

“Janet,” he said. “You remember I 
told you that some day you should have 
a ‘pot o’ gold’ ?” 

“Yes,” said Janet. 

“Well, look up now, over the door, and 
read the name of this inn.” 

And there, painted in large gold letters, 
on a bright blue ground, Janet read : 

“the pot o’ gold.” 

“Yes,” said the Laird, “and this pot o’ 
gold, little girl, is yours — your very own. 
Lady Geraldine and I give it to you to- 
day — your ninth birthday.” 

“And Janet,” said Lady Geraldine, 

I 

“what will you do with your pot o’ 
gold?’ ” 

“Give it to the mither!” cried Janet, 
running to her mother’s arms! 

81 









































IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 



















■t 


V 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

I 

I N the village of Lanwyn, on the coast 
of Cornwall, lived a boy whose name 
was Samuel. His father was a miner — 
an overseer — who each day with other 
miners, went down into the earth to dig 
out tin, and as he went to his work almost 
before the sun began his, he scarcely 
knew day by sight. But it had not been 
always so, for, as a lad and young man, 
Mr. Carroll had been a sailor, and many 
were the tales of adventure which he told 
to his boy, Sam. Nor was that all, for 
the father had in spare moments managed 
to make a good sailor of the boy, and on 
his eleventh birthday gave him for his 

85 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


very own, a fine, broad, safe boat. It was 
not a new one, but after Mr. Carroll had 
mended, put in a new bowsprit and 
painted it, it certainly looked as if it 
were. The name — Aurora — Sam chose 
himself, and his father painted it on the 
stern. The black letters stood out proud- 
ly: A Roarer , and I think Mr. Carroll, 
Sam, and all their friends preferred that 
way of spelling it to any other. 

One day early in June, Sam went for 
an afternoon’s sail. He took his supper 
with him, as he did not intend to return 
till high tide, at eight. His mother felt 
no anxiety, for the day was mild, and Sam 
was a good sailor. He could also swim, 
and had with him a life-preserver. The 
boy sailed out of the little land-locked 
harbor, toward the open ocean beyond. 
He always felt relieved when his boat 
shot out between the two high rocks which 
86 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


guarded the narrow entrance, because 
the mine in which his father worked ex- 
tended far out under the bay, and it gave 
him an uncomfortable sensation, to feel 
that he might be sailing over his father’s 
head! 

The A Roarer sailed on for an hour or 
more. Then the wind which had been 
steady, suddenly died away, the water 
became like glass, and the boat lay there 
peacefully, unworthy her name; but even 
A Roarer can do nothing in a dead calm. 
Sam looked about in every direction, but 
saw no welcome ripple. On the horizon 
a long, murky line marked the recent 
passage of an ocean-liner, but no boat 
save his own was in sight on the empty, 
glassy sea. It was terribly hot — Sam 
bathed his face and hands, and then — I 
regret to say — did what no boy should do 
when alone in a boat — fell fast asleep, 

87 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the sheet held tightly in his hand. He 
slept for more than an hour. The mis- 
chievous breeze in the meantime only 
waiting, apparently, until the boy was 
sound asleep, sprang up and filled the 
A Roarer’s sail. “Ah, ha,” laughed the 
waves, as they slapped against her sides, 
and slapped against her sides, and faster 
and faster the boat flew onward. 

Suddenly Sam was aroused from his 
dangerous sleep, by hearing a shrill cry. 
In an instant the boy was fully awake, 
and looking up, found himself within a 
few feet of a group of pointed jagged 
rocks toward which he was rapidly sail- 
ing! In another moment he would have 
been dashed against them, but he suc- 
ceeded in bringing the boat about just in 
time. 

“A pretty close shave that,” said a wee 
voice, and then Sam looked up, and saw 
88 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


to his amazement, standing on one of the 
rocks, a tiny man, not more than ten 
inches high ! Rubbing his eyes, he looked 
again, for he thought he must be dream- 
ing. No, there stood the little figure, 
sharply outlined against the sky beyond. 
Lowering the sail, the boy took his oars 
and rowed cautiously near the rock on 
which the little man was standing. 

“Where did you come from?” he asked. 

“From my kingdom below,” was the 
astonishing answer; and the small figure 
was drawn proudly erect till it was fully 
ten and a half inches high. “I am a King, 
and who are you?” 

“Just a plain boy,” said Sam. “I came 
from Lanwyn, the village over there.” 

“What village? Over where?” asked 
the little man. 

“There, behind me,” said Sam, and 
turning, was about to point it out, when 
89 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

he discovered that there was no land in 
sight ! 

About him on every side was water, 
nothing but water. Sam’s heart sank, 
when he realized how far he must be from 
his home. 

“Where am I?” he gasped. 

“At the entrance to my kingdom,” said 
His Little Majesty. 

“And may I come up on those rocks’?” 
asked Sam, who hoped that from that 
height he might be better able to see the 
land. At this, the Little King seemed 
greatly alarmed, but said politely, “I shall 
be delighted, Giant. That is, if you are 
quite sure you are a gentle giant?” 

Sam, though much amused at being 
called a giant, said that he had always 
been considered very kind and gentle. 
Then he remembered with remorse that 
90 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

only the day before he had broken his 
sister’s doll. “That is, I mean to be so,” 
he added. 

At this, the Little King, who had 
waited the answer in anxiety, smiled 
pleasantly. 

“Fasten your ship here,” he directed, 
pointing to a sharp rock which was con- 
veniently near the bow. This Sam did, 
and was soon upon the ledge eagerly 
scanning the horizon. Greatly to his re- 
lief he could see land, although he judged 
it must be some distance away. His 
Little Majesty begged to be taken up, and 
was greatly excited on being lifted to 
Sam’s shoulder, where he stood balancing 
himself, and holding firmly to the boy’s 
ear. After satisfying himself as to the 
direction in which he was to sail, Sam be- 
gan to examine the ledge upon which he 
91 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

stood. This he found formed a circle 
around a black, yawning abyss, into 
which the boy looked with growing hor- 
ror! 

“My kingdom is down there,” said the 
Little King. “I wish you could visit it, 
but ’t is against the law.” 

Sam felt relieved to hear of this excel- 
lent law, but, of course, he did not say so. 

“Do you really live in that hole?” he 
inquired. 

“I do, Giant, but it is not a hole. Sit 
down and I will tell you about it.” 

This Sam did, and the Little King, 
perching himself fearlessly on the boy’s 
knee, said: 

“You are now on the top of a hollow 
mountain, an extinct volcano.” 

“I remember,” interrupted Sam, “hear- 
ing my father say that in this direction, 
many years ago, rocks were visible for a 
92 












* 

























'I 















































4 









































IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


few hours, but that they have never since 
been seen.” 

“Your father was right,” said the King, 
“for the mountain top is far under water 
— usually, but this is an unusual day. 

“It is, indeed,” said Sam, heartily. 

“Now,” continued the King. “I own 
this mountain, and am the monarch of a 
people who live in it — the Wee-uns.’ 
My kingdom is below, inside the moun- 
tain, and bounded by its walls. ’T is 
very large, for the mountain is many miles 
in circumference. We are protected from 
the ocean above by a heavy glass roof. 
Once in fifty years, in half-century tide, 
the water recedes from the abyss, and 
leaves these rocks standing high and dry 
for a few hours. We then throw up a 
rope-ladder, and by its means I climb here 
and sit awhile. Then when the tide be- 
gins to rise, I hurry down the ladder, and 
93 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

go into my kingdom, shutting the door be- 
hind me, before the water dashes down 
upon us. There is no danger of our be- 
ing engulfed by it, for our country is, as 
I said, roofed with glass, formed by the 
melting of certain rock, while the moun- 
tain was burning ages ago. When this 
cooled it formed a beautiful, thick roof. 
I wish I could show it to you. But 
if you look down, I think you may be able 
to see the lights shining through it.” 
Sam lay flat on his face, and crawling to 
the edge of the pit looked down, and sure 
enough, could see far, far below, many 
twinkling lights. Just then the Little 
King gave a loud cry, and began to jump 
up and down with excitement. 

“Look, look!” he screamed, and pointed 
out to sea. 

Sam looked, then looked again, and his 

94 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


heart sank like lead, for at some distance 
from him, and drifting rapidly away, was 
his boat — A Roarer! She was drifting so 
fast that there was no chance for him to 
swim to her. 

“The water must have begun to rise, 
and have slipped the rope off the rock,” 
shouted the King. “Poor Giant, poor 
Giant. You will be drowned! No, you 
shall not be drowned, I will save you! 
This time I will break the law. Come 
with me — down to the land of the Wee- 
uns.” 

“Go with you down there and not come 
up again for fifty years?” cried the boy. 
“I can’t. I can’t.” 

“You must , ’t is your only chance for 
life. But how can I get you down? 
Think you the rope-ladder will bear your 
weight? Come, look at it, and hurry, 
95 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


hurry, there is no time to lose. The 
waters are rising rapidly, and in a few 
moments more will be upon us.” 

Sam saw that this was so, and that his 
only chance to escape drowning was as 
the King had said, to go down with him 
to his kingdom below. To his surprise, 
on examining the rope-ladder which was 
swaying back and forth over the abyss, 
Sam, who, being a sailor, of course, knew 
a good deal about ropes, found that it was 
strong enough to bear his weight. The 
King descended first, while Sam waited, 
gazing nervously at the ever-rising water. 
“My poor mother and father,” he thought, 
“they will think when A Roarer is found, 
that I am drowned.” Suddenly an idea 
came to him. Taking his water bottle 
from his pocket, he quickly emptied it, 
tore a scrap of paper from an old letter, 
and with shaking hand scribbled: 

96 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


“Mr. Carroll, 

“Lanwyn. 

“Mother — Father — I ’m not drowned. Am all 
right. Will return if possible. No time explain. 

“Sam.” 

And indeed this was so, for when Sam 
had stuffed the scrap of paper into the bot- 
tle, corked it, and thrown it far into the 
sea, the water was within a few inches of 
his feet. 

Hearing a faint call from the Little 
King below, he ran quickly to the rope- 
ladder, and slid gradually down, hand 
over hand. He could not, of course, use 
the ladder as a ladder, as the rungs were 
too near together, but they served as rests 
for his hands, and prevented them from 
slipping. So, clasping the rope with 
hands and legs, he went down, down, 
down into the inky blackness. He had no 
time to be afraid; he only remembered 
97 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


that above him was death, while under 
him lay the one chance of life. It became 
lighter as he reached the glass roof, and 
heard the warning cry of the Little King, 
“Hurry, hurry. Not a minute to lose.” 

He realized the truth of this, for just 
then the first wave dashed over the rocks 
above, drenching them with salt spray, 
and almost drowning the poor Little King, 
who ran wildly toward the roof -door, call- 
ing to Sam, “This way. This way. Fol- 
low me.” 

Sam, who had now reached the glass 
roof, hurried quickly after him, falling 
once on the wet, slippery surface. An- 
other, and yet another wave dashed over 
the rocks before Sam reached the door. 
The King had already gone through, and 
the instant he saw the boy, shouted, 
“Come in, head first, Giant. We will 
pull you through.” 


98 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


Sam did as he was bid, and was relieved 
to find that though with great difficulty, 
the little people (and there seemed to the 
dazed boy to be millions of them) did suc- 
ceed in pulling him through the round 
opening, shutting the door with a “bang” 
behind him. And just in time, too, for 
crashing, roaring, tumbling, down came 
the water, shutting out the upper world 
for fifty years! 


99 


II 


S AM’S appearance had caused great 
excitement in the country, and the 
little people from far and near, were 
hastening to get a look at the monster 
giant, who had come among them. So 
when Sam had recovered himself some- 
what, and looked about, he found himself 
surrounded by thousands of little people, 
all of about the same size as the King. 
None of them spoke, but gazed and gazed 
at him with white, frightened faces. 
Then his friend, the King, appeared. He 
had removed his wet garments, and was 
arrayed in the tiniest ermine robes of 
state, while on his head was the wee-est, 
“royalest” crown imaginable. He was 
preceded by two boys, dressed in bright 
100 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


scarlet, who walked before him drumming 
on two wee drums, and shouting in very 
shrill voices: 

“Make way! Make way for the King 
of the Wee-uns!” 

The crowd fell back, and his Little 
Majesty stalked solemnly on, till he 
reached Sam. 

“Lift me,” he commanded and in such 
a right royal way, that the boy instantly 
obeyed, placing the little creature on his 
knee. 

“My people,” said the King. “Be not 
afraid. This Giant, monster though he is, 
is my friend, and while he remains with 
us, is to be treated as such. He is a Giant, 
that, of course, you see, nor do I attempt 
to deny it. But I have talked long with 
him in the upper world, and have found 
him gentle and kind. Being so much 
larger, of course, he must contain more 
101 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


gentleness and kindness than one of us.” 

“Reasonable, most reasonable, Sire,” 
murmured the crowd. But one old man 
objected, saying: 

“Kind he may be now, Sire. But is he 
kind always? that is the question. Is he 
always kind as we now see him?” 

And this was repeated again and again 
by the crowd, who had evidently been 
talking the matter over among them- 
selves. 

“If not,” continued the old man, “may 
we not be introducing a second Phoe — ” 

“Ssssh,” said the King, warningly. 

Nevertheless, he looked anxiously at 
Sam, who said, “Little people, I can only 
say that I was a kind, good boy at home, 
and I will try to be more than ever so, 
while I am with you.” 

“Hurrah! Hurrah!” shouted all the 
mites together. When the excitement 


102 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


was over, the King told the story of what 
had happened to poor Sam. How he had 
gone away from home, for a pleasant 
afternoon’s sail, and of his falling asleep, 
and drifting to the crater-rocks. How 
he, the King, had told him where to fasten 
his boat, and having done so, how it had 
drifted away, leaving him a prisoner. 
“It was my fault. Never forget that,” 
said the poor Little King. “I have 
separated the poor boy from his family, 
who are probably at this very moment 
searching for him. Now, as the Giant- 
boy is here, all we can do is to treat him 
kindly, and to supply, as far as we are 
able, all his wants. What say ye, my 
people?” 

“That we will, Sire,” shouted the little 
people enthusiastically, and to show their 
willingness and loyalty, they one by one 
bowed low to Sam. 

103 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

This ceremony over, Sam thanked the 
King for his kindness, and was left to 
himself. Then the poor boy began to 
think over the situation. His only hope 
was that he might make a little boat, and, 
going up with the King the next time he 
went above, drag it after him and launch 
it. But he must wait fifty years for this 
— for fifty years he was banished from 
the world above. He would, if he lived, 
be an old man when he again got his 
liberty. His father and mother would 
both be dead — he should never see them 
again. Throwing himself flat on the 
ground, poor Sam sobbed as if his heart 
would break. 

An hour later darkness fell, and before 
long, silence reigned throughout the king- 
dom. All the next day the boy thought 
only of his sad condition, and refusing 
food, sat upon the ground and wept. 
104 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


The little people were much troubled, and 
in the afternoon the King appeared alone, 
and spoke with the boy. 

“I have been talking matters over with 
my council,” he said, “and this is our de- 
cision, Giant. It is but natural that you 
should weep, but if you weep much more 
you will become ill. Now, do you think 
you would want to cry for more than one 
week?” 

Sam could n’t help smiling a little as 
he admitted that one week ought to be 
enough for almost any grief. 

“That ’s so. That ’s so,” said the Lit- 
tle King. “That being the case, I have 
appointed a crying-guard for you.” 

“A what?” gasped Sam. 

“Some men,” explained the King, 
“whose sole duty it shall be to cry for 
you. They are good, hard-working, en- 
thusiastic men, too. You see,” and here 
105 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the King seated himself by the boy, and 
crossed one little leg over the other, “my 
idea is to have one man cry for one day, 
and another for another day, and so on, 
and, as there are seven of them, that will 
give you a good solid week’s crying. 
And Giant, I have given orders to have 
them do the crying in your presence, so 
that you shall be quite satisfied. If any 
man neglects his duty, just let me know.” 

Then without waiting for Sam’s con- 
sent, the Little King rose, and full of de- 
lighted importance went away. 

Early the next morning a solemn little 
man made his appearance. He was 
dressed entirely in black, and carried a 
large bag. This bag he opened, and from 
it took a handkerchief, which he placed 
on the ground before him. Then another 
and another he took out, till there were 
several dozen in the pile. Then bowing 
106 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


low to Sam, he seated himself, and said, 
“Shall I begin, Sir?’ 

Sam, who, although the tears were 
scarcely, as yet, dry on his own cheeks, 
had been watching these elaborate prep- 
arations with much amusement, nodded, 
and the small man began. Oh, how he 
cried ! How the big tears rolled down his 
cheeks, while heavy sobs convulsed his 
little frame. Meanwhile, Sam, overcome 
by his appearance and the absurdity of 
the whole thing, began to laugh. In- 
stantly the man stopped his lamentations. 

“Why do you laugh, Giant?” he de- 
manded. 

“I laugh because I am pleased,” an- 
swered Sam. 

“Oh,” said the little man, mollified. 
“Everyone says I am a pleasing Weeper,” 
and he again lifted up his voice and wept 
with renewed energy. 

107 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


In about an hour the Little King ap- 
peared. “How is he getting on?” he 
whispered. 

“Finely,” said Sam. “I don’t believe 
anyone could do better.” 

The King seemed gratified. “He is a 
good man,” he admitted. 

“Your Majesty,” said Sam. “I am be- 
ginning to be hungry. I should like 
something to eat and drink. Cannot the 
man be trusted to go on weeping if we 
leave him?” 

“Oh yes,” whispered the King. “He 
does n’t need to be watched at all. I only 
suggested your doing so for your own sat- 
isfaction. Perhaps you would like to 
have him go with us and weep on the 
way?” 

But Sam said he was quite content to 
leave the weeper behind. Then he and 
the Little King walked away, the King 
108 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


very happy at seeing the boy had again 
begun to take an interest in life. As for 
Sam, heavy-hearted as he felt, he had 
made up his mind to keep his grief to him- 
self, and to be as brave and cheerful as 
possible. When they had walked a suffi- 
cient distance from the noisy weeper, the 
Little King said: “Sit here, Giant, and 
they shall bring you food. And while you 
eat I will tell you something of the 
country of the Wee-uns. It is, as I told 
you, situated in the inside of this big 
mountain. Ages and ages ago, it is said 
that there was a raging fire here. What 
became of it, I don’t know. I suppose it 
burnt itself out, leaving only a pile of 
ashes, and the empty shell of the moun- 
tain. Within the memory of man, how- 
ever, this country has always been green 
and fertile as it is now. You ask what 
became of the ashes ? Ah, Giant, I know, 
109 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

but I will not pain you by telling you 
now.” 

At this moment, ten Wee-uns appeared, 
carrying trays on which were dishes con- 
taining food and drink. Sam ate and 
drank eagerly of the delicious food, al- 
though everything was strange to him. 
When he had satisfied himself, he said: 
“First tell me, your Majesty, how you get 
light into your kingdom*? In the upper 
world we get ours from the sun.” 

“And here,” said the King, “we get 
ours from the sun-fish! It is better, too, 
for when it rains your sun refuses to shine, 
while our sun-fish does n’t mind the 
weather — the wetter it is, the better he 
shines. We have made a contract with a 
certain company of sun-fishes to supply 
light to this country for five thousand 
years; and so far they have done well. 
Their light is steady and of good quality, 
no 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

It takes ten fishes to light the whole 
country.” 

“And at night?” asked Sam. 

“At night, of course, we don’t want 
such a bright light, and so we use star- 
fishes,” said the King. 

“And what were the twinkling lights I 
saw when I looked down here from the 
rocks above?” 

“When half-century tide comes, and the 
water recedes, my people hang up glass 
globes filled with water, in each of which 
is a star-fish, which makes a very satisfac- 
tory light, during my absence,” explained 
the King. “We tried once the experi- 
ment of lighting our land by electricity. 
Our plan was, you see, to place a glass 
tank, filled with electric eels, directly over 
the roof of our country, and they were to 
give us electric light. But it failed, I am 
sorry to say, it failed! You see, the eels 
ill 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


positively refused to go into the tanks. 
But the idea was a good one, and so was 
the name : ‘The Eelectric Eelluminating 
Co.’ The name was my own idea. Neat, 
was n’t it? Neat and ‘tasty’ as the boy 
said when he swallowed the mustard-pot. 
That joke is my own, too — witty, is n’t 
it?” and here the Little King laughed so 
heartily that his crown fell off. This re- 
called him to a sense of his dignity, and he 
hurriedly put it on again, looking around 
to see if anyone had noticed the incident. 

The King now proposed a walk through 
the country, and suggested that he be 
carried on the boy’s shoulder, “for you 
see,” he explained, “it takes me several 
days to go around my kingdom but you 
can accomplish it in as many hours.” 


112 


Ill 


A S long as Sam lives, he will never 
forget that first walk through the 
land of the Wee-uns, with his Little 
Majesty perched upon his shoulder. 
Over miniature hills and through minia- 
ture valleys he strode, by wee gaily 
painted houses, not bigger than bird- 
houses, and all imbedded in bright flowers, 
which filled the air with perfume. The 
kingdom proved to be much larger than 
Sam had supposed. Directly in the 
middle was the King’s palace, a beautiful 
little building of white marble with 
curved pillars of exquisitely carved wal- 
rus tusks. Indeed, the whole structure 
was one mass of superb carving. Seated 
at the entrance of the palace were the 
113 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


King’s wife and daughter. The Princess 
was the most exquisite little creature 
Sam had ever seen. The dearest little 
hands and feet, the sweetest little mouth, 
and two long braids of golden hair, hang- 
ing to her dainty little heels. What 
would he not have given to take this 
fascinating mite home to his sister for 
a living doll, to replace the one he had 
broken? 

After Sam had been presented to the 
Queen and Princess, the King and he re- 
sumed their walk, continuing until they 
reached the rugged, sloping walls of the 
mountain itself. 

“Put me down here,” commanded his 
Little Majesty. Sam obeyed and the 
King, with pride, called the boy’s atten- 
tion to the band of exquisite carving on 
the rock, which extended to about two feet 
114 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


above the ground. Sam gazed in aston- 
ishment, for the work was really marvel- 
lous, looking like a flounce of heavy, gray 
lace. The Little King was pleased at his 
evident admiration. “The Wee-uns have 
always known the art of carving,” he 
said. “It has been handed down from 
father to son. This band of carving on 
the rock which, by the way, extends en- 
tirely round the country, except where the 
Phoe — ahem!” said the King, interrupt- 
ing himself. “As I was saying, this band 
of carving was begun in the reign of my 
great, great grandfather, and finished in 
the early part of mine. I have often 
wished that the band had extended up a 
bit farther, but it was not considered safe 
to make the ladders much longer.” 

“I never saw anything so beautiful,” 
said Sam, “and I am sure no country in 
115 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the world was ever surrounded by any- 
thing of the sort” (which was probably 
true). 

“Indeed?’ said the King, who was 
evidently much pleased. 

“Your Majesty,” said Sam, “an idea 
has just come to me. I shall probably 
live here among you for many years, and 
of course, I want to work, too. Now, 
why can’t I act as a ladder for your work- 
men? I will stand near the wall, and 
they can climb on me, and go on with 
their carving, bringing up the band as 
high as you like. And perhaps, if they 
are willing to teach me, I can do some of 
the first rough work for them. They used 
to think at home that I whittled beauti- 
fully.” 

The King clapped his tiny hands in 
delight, and that evening after the sun- 
fishes had gone, and the star-fishes shone 
116 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


softly through the glass roof above, 
filling the whole place with their mellow 
light, the King called his subjects to- 
gether, and from Sam’s knee, now his 
favorite throne, told them of the boy’s 
plan. It was received with wild en- 
thusiasm, and the carpenters were given 
orders at once, to make two benches which, 
suspended by a rope, were to hang from 
the Giant’s neck. The carvers did not 
get to their work for two weeks, as the 
benches had to be made, and some of 
their tools for working on the rock, were 
broken, and had to be mended. 

So, in the two weeks, Sam had time to 
get well acquainted with the Wee-uns 
and their country. He found the little 
people fascinating. They were the best 
tempered, most loving little creatures 
imaginable, never quarrelling, and always 
trying to help each other in every way. 
117 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


If Sam had only had his father, mother, 
and sister with him, he would have been 
a very happy boy. They were all ex- 
tremely kind to him, and tried in every 
way to make him feel that it was a 
pleasure rather than a burden to them to 
have him there. This was not only on 
account of their king’s commands, or 
because they felt that, had it not been for 
him, the boy would never have come to 
them, but from real kindness of heart and 
sympathy with his sad situation. 

It was no easy matter to supply the 
“Giant” with food, but they never let 
Sam suspect this, and he ate their loaves 
of bread, each one but a mouthful for him, 
with calmness of mind. The Wee-uns 
did not have meat, and so did n’t eat any. 
They had a great many other good things, 
however, and Sam, who had a fine appe- 
tite, enjoyed them all. For drinks they 
118 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


had water, and a most delicious sea 
gruel — unlike anything that is, or can be 
made, in the upper world. The Wee-uns 
women had made for Sam a mattress 
stuffed with dry grass, so that his nights 
were more comfortable than they had been 
at first. 

It had been a most difficult matter to 
find a place in the village, long and 
level enough for him to lie on in comfort. 
He was very uncomfortable the first 
night, and found the next morning that 
his left leg had been resting on the chim- 
ney of the public library! At last with 
the King’s help a suitable spot was 
chosen, but in lying down to try it, it was 
found that the schoolhouse was in the 
way. 

“Giant,” said the King, “if you can 
lie bent for a few nights I will have it 
moved over there.” 


119 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Will your Majesty allow me to move 
it ?” asked Sam, and without more ado, he 
lifted the little structure, and placed it 
quickly and firmly on the spot which the 
King had indicated. The King and the 
people stood there with mouths wide 
open from astonishment at the Giant’s 
strength. But, as it happened, Sam for- 
got that there might be people in the 
schoolhouse. There were. It was filled 
with children, as school was going on at 
the time, and after the building was set 
down again, poor little white frightened 
faces kept appearing at the windows. Sam 
apologized for his thoughtlessness, but it 
took hours before they recovered from their 
fright. 

After this incident, if anyone in the 
country wanted to move, he applied to 
Sam, and in a twinkling, without bother 


120 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


of packing, his residence was placed where 
he wished to have it. And it really 
seemed as if everyone wanted to move, 
for a month later, scarcely a house was to 
be found in its original position. Not 
only in this way did Sam make himself 
useful, but if anyone wanted a tree 
moved, no matter how big it was, he had 
but to say the word, and up it came, as if 
the roots had been buttered. 

On one of Sam’s walks, he almost 
stepped on a child, not seeing it at all, so 
after that a little chair was fastened on 
each boot, in which sat a Wee-un, who 
accompanied him always, wherever he 
went. Each Wee-un was provided with 
a horn on which he blew vigorous, mighty 
blasts to warn people that the Giant was 
coming. 

During his first week in the country, 


121 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Sam went each morning to look at the 
little Weepers, who were still sobbing and 
shrieking enthusiastically in his behalf. 
He had told the King, after seeing the 
first man cry, that he was quite willing to 
“take the will for the deed” and not 
trouble the other six to finish out the 
week; but the King said he could not 
countermand the order. The others 
would be greatly offended if he did. 
“You see,” he confessed, “not only are 
the men themselves extremely sorry for 
you, but I am to give a prize to the man 
who does the best work.” 

So for seven days the King and Sam 
watched each morning for an hour, and 
in the end the prize, a big sea fruit pie, 
was given to one of the little Weepers. 
Sam, in addition, gave each a bright col- 
ored marble, which he fortunately hap- 
pened to have in his pocket. This gift 
122 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

pleased them immensely, and people 
came from far and near to look at the 
strange glass globes which the Giant had 
given. 


123 


IV 


O NE day Sam was walking with the 
Little King when he heard a hoarse, 
roaring noise, which greatly alarmed him. 

“What is that, Your Majesty?” he en- 
quired. 

The King was much amused at Sam’s 
evident alarm. 

“Don’t be afraid, Giant,” he said. 
“That is only our air pipe, which we keep 
stored at one end of the country and once 
a year put up through the round opening 
in the roof. First, the bad used-up air 
escapes through it, and then I push a 
lever, and down rushes the fresh air which 
lasts us for twelve months.” (The kind- 
hearted little King did not tell the boy 
124 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


that he had given orders this year to take 
in a double quantity, on account of the 
Giant’s presence.) “We only do this 
once a year and in summer, for my sub- 
jects prefer the warm, bright summer air,” 
he added. 

Sam, expressing a wish to see the pipe, 
walked with the Little King till he stood 
near. The roaring of the air in the pipe 
had now become deafening, and Sam’s 
two little foot-guards had hard work to 
make the men who were working on it, 
hear the warning horn-blasts. His Maj- 
esty shrieked into Sam’s ear, “Put me 
down. It is time, I see, for me to push the 
lever.” 

The boy lifted him carefully down, and 
in a most unkingly way his Majesty 
scampered to the pipe. Sam then knelt 
down, and saw him push a lever at one 
side. Instantly the roaring ceased. 

125 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

“In a moment the fresh air will come 
rushing in,” said the King. 

“I don’t understand how it is done,” 
said Sam. 

“No,” said the King, “I fear it is too 
complicated for anyone to understand — 
unless, indeed, he has royal blood in his 
veins. Have you royal blood in your 
veins, Giant ?” 

“No,” confessed the boy. 

“Not even one drop?” asked His 
Little Majesty, anxiously. “Well then, 
I fear that you will never be able to under- 
stand this matter thoroughly in detail. 
You can, however, understand that the 
bad air goes, and the fresh air comes and 
— ” Here his Majesty’s voice was 
drowned by the rush of the oncoming air. 
“Oooooh!” how it roared. Sam, looking 
up through the roof, could see the big 
pipe, swaying from side to side, in huge 
126 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


coils, like an immense, impossible serpent. 
He walked on with the King, and when 
they were far enough from the deafening 
roar to hear each other speak, he asked 
how long the pipe was. 

“I don’t know exactly,” was the answer. 
“They used to keep it coiled round the 
kingdom till we found it interfered with 
the carvers.” 

“Do you ever let it out to its full 
length?” asked the astonished boy. 

“Indeed we do. I often let it skirt the 
shores of foreign countries, for I think ’t is 
a good thing for us all, to occasionally 
have the benefit of a decided change of 
air, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” answered Sam, absently, for he 
was thinking of something. “Your Maj- 
esty,” he then said, “an idea has suddenly 
come to me. What you have just told 
me may explain something that has 
127 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

puzzled men of all countries for years 
past. Sailors and men on shore have 
often seen what they took to be a huge 
snake, writhing and circling in the water. 
It is so tremendously big, that they fly 
from it in terror. It is called the ‘Sea- 
Serpent,’ and those who have not seen it 
laugh at those who have, for the stories 
they tell of the creature’s size are so in- 
credible. Now, I think that the great 
Sea-Serpent about which we have heard 
so much, is neither more nor less than your 
long black air-pipe!” And Sam laughed 
heartily, while the Little King almost 
rolled from the boy’s shoulder, so great 
was his merriment. 

The following morning, Sam began his 
work as a walking ladder. The benches 
were hung about his neck, and a swarm 
of Wee-uns crawled up and took their 
places. Then cautiously the boy walked 
128 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


the few steps to the spot on the wall 
where the work was to begin, the foot- 
guards tooting their little horns merrily, 
and the people on the ground and the 
carvers themselves shouting lustily. 

Sam stood for an hour while the little 
men worked, then rested, ate dinner, and 
stood for another hour in the afternoon. 
At first it was tiresome, but he soon be- 
came accustomed to it, and was glad to 
think that he was doing anything for this 
kind, loving, little people. At last, as he 
suggested, they taught him to do some 
of the rough, heavy work himself, prepar- 
ing the way for the exquisite finish, which 
they added. Their carving was a never- 
ending wonder and delight to the boy, 
and his loudly expressed admiration was 
very pleasing to them. 

They had grown extremely fond of him, 
and he was becoming at least contented, 
129 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


although his heart was heavy indeed when 
he thought of his dear father and mother, 
his loved sister and his happy home. 

And so days, weeks, and months slipped 
away. The days busy with work and the 
evenings spent in pleasant talk together; 
Sam, hearing the history of the Wee-uns 
as far back as they knew it, and the Wee- 
uns themselves listening open-mouthed 
to his stories of the upper world. Many 
things were absolutely strange to them, 
which he, having seen all his life, took as 
a matter of course. He taught them 
much for they were eager to learn. In 
after years, Sam often recalled those 
evenings, and again fancied himself 
seated there, the King on his knee, and 
surrounded by the eager little people, who 
sat in silent, interested rows, listening to 
his stories, while the star-fishes twinkled 
softly over their heads. 

130 


y 


O NE night, Sam could not sleep, and 
as he lay there in the stillness, he 
thought of his father and mother, till one 
by one the big tears rolled down his 
cheeks, and he cried as if his heart would 
break. 

Now, the Little King happened to be 
restless, too, and walking near the boy’s 
bed, heard his sobs. Hastening to him, 
he climbed up and gently stroked his hand, 
saying, “Giant, dear Giant, are you griev- 
ing for your home?” 

The boy said “Yes,” but added that no 
one could be kinder than the dear Wee- 
uns, and that were it not for his people 
he should be very happy and contented. 
“Well, Giant,” said the Little King, 
131 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


wiping the sympathetic tears from his own 
eyes, “let us think if something can’t be 
done. You have seen my Seven Wise 
Men — my council?” 

“Yes, Sire, I have,” for Sam remem- 
bered to have seen seven solemn little 
men, clad all in gray, and to have been 
told that they were the King’s council — 
the “Never-Smilers.” 

“They are very wise,” continued the 
King, “and to-morrow I will order them 
to put their heads together, and they may 
be able to think of some way for you to 
get away.” 

Sam had no great faith in this, but he 
would not grieve the Little King by say- 
ing so, so thanked him and bade him good- 
night. 

The following morning, in Sam’s pres- 
ence, the King summoned the “Never- 
Smilers.” 


132 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


“Wise councillors,” he said. “Our dear 
Giant longs to get to his home. Put your 
heads together for a day, and perhaps you 
can think of some way to accomplish 
it.” 

The little, gray-clad men seated them- 
selves in a circle, and all bent forward till 
their seven heads touched. 

“Why do they do that?” asked Sam. 

“Because I told them to put their heads 
together,” said the King. “People can 
think better in that way, for their ideas 
pass more quickly from one to another, 
you know,” and Sam, who did not know, 
as he had never tried it, was unable to con- 
tradict this statement. 

At the end of the day, the Never-Smil- 
ers announced that they had an idea, so 
calling all the people together, the King 
asked what it was. 

“Your Majesty, our idea is that the 
133 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

Giant be put into the air-pipe and sent 
up to the surface of the water, as we send 
up the air,” announced the spokesman, 
proudly. 

All the Wee-uns applauded loudly, but 
Sam’s heart sank as he realized the utter 
impossibility of such a scheme. 

“Gentlemen,” he said, sadly, “even 
were there force enough to push me up 
through the pipe, which I doubt, what 
should I do when I got there? I have no 
boat, and should drown before there 
would be any chance of a passing boat 
seeing me.” 

The Never-Smilers hung their heads in 
shame, and all the Wee-uns groaned. 

“You will have to put your heads to- 
gether for another day,” commanded the 
King, but at the end of that time, they 
confessed that they had no suggestion to 
offer, so the King told Sam, with tears 
134 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


in his eyes, that he feared it was useless. 

“You must stay here, dear Giant,” he 
said, “and if there is anything that we can 
do for your happiness that has not been al- 
ready done, pray let us know.” 

At this moment a messenger came hur- 
riedly to them. 

“Your Majesty,” he said, “Can I take 
the keys to the Royal Granery? More 
corn is needed for the Phoe — ” 

“Hush,” said the King, who had grown 
pale. “Here are the keys,” and the mes- 
senger hurried away with them. 

“Sire,” said Sam. “Several times have 
your subjects mentioned a ‘Fee’ — and 
each time you have stopped them. May I 
ask what the ‘Fee’ is*?” 

The King put his little hand tenderly 
on Sam’s, and said with a trembling voice, 
“Dear boy, do not ask me to tell you.” 


135 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


And days and months passed, till at 
last it seemed to Sam as if he had al- 
ways lived among the Wee-uns, and his 
father, mother, and sister began to seem 
like memories. He thought he should 
never see them again, but live and at last 
die in the hollow mountain under the sea. 

One day the Little King asked Sam how 
long a time people lived in the upper 
world. The boy told him that they died 
at all ages, but that few people lived very 
long after seventy years. 

“How very extraordinary,” said the Lit- 
tle King. “Why it is scarcely worth while 
being born to live so short a time. We 
Wee-uns, live four hundred years and 
then we die.” 

“Four hundred years?” gasped Sam. 

“There has been one sad exception,” 
said the King. “That of my great grand- 
father, who went at half-century tide to 
136 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


the rocks above. We know not what hap- 
pened there, but he never came back ! He 
was at the time only a hundred and fifty 
years old. Poor man ! Sad to be thus cut 
off in his prime.” 

“And of what illness do your people 
usually die?” asked Sam. 

“Illness?” said the King, astonished in 
his turn. “The Wee-uns are never ill. 
We simply live four hundred years, then 
take our finis-fruit and die.” 

“‘Finis-fruit’? And what is that?” 
asked Sam. 

“Twenty people are to die to-day,” said 
the King, gaily. “Perhaps you would like 
to see them?” 

“No,” said Sam firmly. 

“It is a very pleasant sight,” said the 
Little King. “They do enjoy it so much. 
Come with me, Giant, the procession is 
forming, I see. I must go.” 

137 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

Thus urged, Sam followed the King, 
who headed a procession of twelve women 
and eight men, all singing joyfully. 

In the garden grew a certain tree, the 
fruit of which the King had strictly for- 
bidden Sam to touch. Towards this tree 
the procession moved, and formed a circle 
round it. Then each one reached forward 
eagerly and took from it one of the cherry- 
like fruits, a “finis-fruit” which he put in 
his mouth. 

“Farewell, good King, and all good 
friends,” they cried joyfully. “We have 
led a happy life among you.” 

And then, to Sam’s utter amazement, he 
saw that the twenty Wee-uns who had 
eaten of the fruit were shrinking rapidly! 
In five minutes they were not more than 
half their original size — then a quarter — 
an eighth, — then came twenty little flashes 
of light, twenty little puffs of smoke, and 
138 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


the twenty little Wee-uns were gone, leav- 
ing no trace behind ! 

And that is the way the people died in 
Wee-uns land. 


139 


VI 


O NE morning, Sam remembered that 
he had been living in the mountain 
for just three years. He now knew all the 
Wee-uns by name, and loved them, and 
as for them, they worshipped their dear 
“Giant.” The band of carving had with 
his help been widened, as they had wished 
to have it. In a short time the work would 
be done. Sam had himself become what 
we should call a good carver, although 
what he did looked very clumsy when com- 
pared with the fairy-like work which the 
Wee-uns turned out. 

“Three years ago to-day, Your Majesty, 
I came here,” said Sam, when he saw the 
Little King that morning. 

“And how old are you now?” 

140 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


“Fourteen,” said Sam. 

“And do you know, Giant, that you are 
no taller than you were when you came? 
I measured your height on the wall. See, 
there is the mark, and you are no taller 
now.” 

It was indeed as the King had said, al- 
though Sam had not noticed it before, as 
he had been unable to compare his size 
with that of any other boy. 

“What do you think can have caused 
this, Your Majesty?” he asked. 

“Our food, possibly,” suggested the Lit- 
tle King. 

“Yes,” said Sam, “I suppose that is the 
only possible explanation. Well, Sire, I 
have spent three years with you, and they 
would have been very happy ones, but for 
one thing.” 

For some time the King sat in silence, 
his chin resting in his little hand. 

141 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

“Yes, Giant,” he said at last with a sigh. 
“You have your one sorrow and — so have 
we.” 

“And what is that sorrow, Your 
Majesty 1 ?” asked Sam. 

“I would have told you long ago, Giant, 
but I have wished to make your life happy 
here.” 

“Is it — is it, Sire, something to do with 
the ‘Fee—’?” 

The King nodded. 

“I must insist on sharing your trouble, 
my kind friend, and perhaps I may be able 
to help you,” said the boy. “Tell me what 
it is.” 

And thus urged, the King spoke. 

“Ages ago, when the fire in this moun- 
tain had burned itself out, there was noth- 
ing left but a heap of gray ashes. Out of 
the warmth and life that was in these ashes 
rose — a bird — a bird of huge dimensions 
142 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


— larger than you, Giant. Too large 
even to escape through the opening at the 
top of the mountain. It was,” and here 
the Little King’s voice trembled, “a 
Phoenix!! So runs the legend. I can’t 
vouch for the truth of it, for we have no 
written history, but I know that since the 
memory of man that Phoenix has been 
here.” 

“Here? Why have I not seen him?” 
asked Sam, and then he remembered that in 
one part of the country there was a field, 
with a very high inpenetrable hedge grow- 
ing about it where he had been forbid- 
den to go. The Phoenix was probably 
there. 

“What harm does the Phoenix do?” he 
asked. 

“Harm?” said the Little King, bitterly. 
“Harm? True, he never attacks us, or 
he would kill us all in half an hour. He 
143 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

has a beak like iron. He could tear a hole 
in this mountainside, and could bore a 
way through it with neatness and de- 
spatch, as easily as if the rock were made 
of cheese. And he is always, always try- 
ing to do it, and to let in the ocean, which 
would drown us all. As for us, we are 
working day and night, day and night 
to prevent it.” 

“But, Sire, does he not know that if he 
did that it would drown him, too?” 

“Not at all,” said the King dejectedly. 
“You see, he is an ‘all-round’ Phoenix, 
with web-feet, and is as much at home in 
the water as on land! He never attacks 
us. His whole mind is bent upon escape. 
He is firmly chained to the platform. 
Probably our ancestors, fearing his power 
for evil, seized a moment when he was 
asleep and chained him.” 

“I think I know where the Phoenix is,” 
144 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


interrupted Sam. “He is behind the for- 
bidden hedge.” 

“He is,” said the King. 

“And can I see him?” 

“Come with me. I will take you to him 
now,” said the King, and together they 
walked to the forbidden place. 

On the way, Sam asked why they did 
not get rid of the Phoenix. 

“Ah,” said the Little King, sadly, “that 
is just what we cannot do. Again and 
again have my seven wise men put their 
heads together in vain.” 

“Kill him,” said Sam. 

“It is forbidden. Come, you shall see 
for yourself.” 

They had now reached the tree hedge, 
which was so tall that it hid the field be- 
yond, even from Sam. They reached the 
gate, which was opened by two officers, 
and entered. The Little King whispered 
145 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


to Sam, “Do not be afraid. Remember it 
is chained and cannot harm you.” 

In spite of this admonition, when Sam 
stood before the Phoenix, his heart almost 
stopped beating, so great was his terror. 
There, chained by his feet to a slowly 
revolving platform, stood a bird of gigan- 
tic size! He had web-feet, each as large 
as an umbrella, huge, strong, yellow legs, 
his body and enormous wings were of 
ashen gray, his cruel beak a vivid scarlet, 
while his eyes glowed like coals as he 
turned them on Sam, who trembled under 
their gaze. 

On the edge of the platform, which 
rested on a pivot, were fastened countless 
little handles. Each handle was grasped 
by a poor, perspiring Wee-un, and ’t was 
they who pushed, pushed, pushed the 
Phoenix-platform round and round, day 
146 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


and night, except when the bird was 
asleep. At one side stood a body of men, 
and when one of the little pushers became 
exhausted, another would instantly take 
his place. 

“Why are they doing that?” whispered 
Sam. 

“Because, while we keep the platform 
moving, the Phoenix is unable to attack 
the wall,” explained the King. “Watch 
him when he faces it.” 

And Sam saw that each time the revolv- 
ing platform brought the Phoenix near the 
wall, the creature stretched out his long 
neck, till his fiery bill was within a few 
inches of the stone; but each time he was 
foiled, as the faithful little men pushed 
the platform steadily round. 

“And why can he not be killed?” asked 
Sam. 


147 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


The King pointed to an inscription on 
the mountain wall near the Phoenix, and 
Sam read: 

RIT-RAT-ROT 
Death to the Phoenix 
By hand of a Wee-un, 

Means death to that Wee-un ! 

Beware ! 

RIT-RAT-ROT 

“And what does £ rit-rat-rot’ mean?” he 
inquired. 

“Latin,” said the King, in an awe-struck 
voice. 

“Oh,” said Sam. “And why, Sire, did 
your ancestors put the Phoenix so near the 
rock?” 

“Perhaps he fell asleep there, gnd they 
chained him as he lay on the platform. 
We do not know, nor do we know 
148 






IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

how the platform happened to be there, 
nor for what it was originally used,” 
said the King. “But, you see, Giant, 
why we can neither kill the Phoenix, 
nor move such a huge, unwieldy crea- 
ture. And now you know at last the 
only trouble in this, otherwise, happy 
land. Think what it is to feel that if any- 
thing should happen, if for any reason we 
could not keep the platform moving, this 
fiendish bird would in fifteen minutes, we 
have calculated, tear a hole through the 
mountain side, and deluge the country!” 
Here the poor King took out his handker- 
chief and burying his dear little face in it, 
sobbed convulsively. Whereat the Phoe- 
nix threw back his ugly head, opened his 
scarlet bill, and laughed derisively, till 
the whole place echoed with the discord- 
ant noise. 

“He always does that when he sees me 
149 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


weep,” said the Little King, sadly. 
“Come away. Come away.” Across the 
field they walked, and for a long distance 
they could hear the steady tramp, tramp, 
tramp of the patient little pushers, and 
the occasional sharp cry of the Phoenix. 

After a while the King’s sobs ceased. 
Then Sam sat down, placing His Majesty 
tenderly beside him on the grass. For a 
few moments there was silence, and then 
the boy turned a radiant face to the Little 
King. 

“Sire,” said he. “An idea, a glorious 
idea, has come to me! I know now that, 
of course, the Phoenix may not die by the 
hand of a Wee-un. But — why may not I 
kill him? The inscription says nothing 
against that.” 

For fully a minute the Little King 
stared at Sam, unable to speak. Then he 
gave a loud cry of joy, and springing to 
150 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


his feet shouted, “You can! You can!” 
When he was somewhat calmer, Sam told 
him how he proposed to do the deed, the 
King fully approving. Then they de- 
cided to wait till night, when they would 
tell the people of Sam’s intention, and 
how he proposed to carry it out. The 
King gave orders that everyone should be 
present. So after the sun-fishes went 
away, and the star-fishes began to shine, 
the hills and valleys were black with the 
crowds of interested Wee-uns, who had 
been summoned to hear what the Giant 
had to say. And when Sam told them 
of his intention, they were wild in their 
expressions of delight. 

There was not much sleep that night, 
everyone waiting eagerly for the day that 
was to free them from the presence of the 
hated Phoenix. 

The following morning, after a hearty 
151 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

breakfast, Sam, accompanied by the King, 
went to the finis-fruit tree. Gathering a 
handful of the ripe fruit, which he put 
into his pocket, he walked towards the 
field followed to the gate by thousands of 
little people, who, by order of the King, 
waited outside. Sam and the Little King 
went in, closing the gate behind them, and 
went up to the Phoenix on his slowly re- 
volving platform. 

“You understand what you are to do, 
Your Majesty?” asked Sam. 

“I do. Shall I begin now?” whispered 
the Little King, and at a nod from Sam, 
who had climbed up on a huge stone, which 
brought him almost on a level with the 
creature’s head, the King took his hand- 
kerchief from his pocket and began to 
weep. And with the usual result. The 
Phoenix, throwing back his head, opened 
his beak wide and laughed derisively. 

152 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 

But no sooner had he opened his mouth, 
than Sam, who had been waiting for this, 
threw one of the death apples down the 
creature’s throat! The Phoenix gave a 
loud cry of anger, and the King stopped 
weeping. “Tramp, tramp,” round and 
round went the platform. 

“Now, Sire, begin again,” cried Sam, 
as the Phoenix came near; and once more 
the Little King, taking up his cry at the 
very point where he had dropped it, wept 
loudly, while, as before, the Phoenix 
laughed, and Sam, with accurate aim, 
threw another death-apple down . his 
throat. Four times was this repeated, and 
then the King and Sam waited for a 
moment in breathless suspense to see 
what would happen. For some time 
nothing did happen, and then the King 
said: 

“Giant, I may be mistaken, but I think 

153 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


— I think that his feet are not quite as 
large as they were.” 

“Your Majesty,” said Sam, “I may be 
mistaken, but I think — I think that his 
head is growing smaller.” 

With quickly beating hearts the big and 
little man stood there, gazing at the 
Phoenix. There was soon no longer any 
doubt about it, the huge bird was shrink- 
ing , and shrinking rapidly ! He was now 
no larger than an ostrich — and now — a 
bird no larger than an eagle stood before 
them! And now it was a hawk — now a 
pigeon — a canary — a humming-bird — 
pffffff ! ! ! — and the platform was empty! 
The place which had known the Phoenix 
for so many years, should know him no 
more. 

Falling on his knees before Sam, the 
Little King wept tears (real tears this 
154 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


time) of joy. Then the gate was opened, 
and the Wee-uns trooped in to see the 
place where their foe had been. 

From this time on, the Wee-uns seemed 
to re-double their kindness to Sam. They 
felt that they could not do enough for him. 
Saturday, the day on which he had killed 
the Phoenix, was in future to be set apart, 
the King ordered, and observed as a 
legal holiday. And it was to be called 
“ Samsday ” 


VII 


O NE memorable day, Sam, feeling 
tired after his morning’s work on 
the rock, threw himself where he was, flat 
on the ground, at the mountain wall, and 
was soon fast asleep. He dreamed that he 
was again at home, with his father, and 
mother, and sister. He was in his own 
room, lying on his own bed. Someone 
downstairs, in the room below, seemed to 
be making a great noise hammering and 
pounding. Suddenly, Sam awoke to find 
that the noise was real and not a dream. 
He listened intently. Someone was 
pounding, and yet there was no one near. 
He jumped up, all sleep gone from him. 
It seemed to him as if the sound came from 
the other side of the mountain wall, 

156 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


“I will get the King,” he said. 

When the King appeared, he listened 
to the tapping noise, but did not appear 
surprised or alarmed. 

“Giant, that sound has often been heard 
before,” he said. 

“But where does it come from*? And 
what is it?” asked Sam. 

“It evidently comes from outside the 
mountain wall,” answered the King, “but 
what it is, we don’t know. We have al- 
ways thought it was some monster-fish 
flapping his tail against the rock.” 

“It does not seem like a fish,” said Sam. 
“It has a familiar sound to me. Where 
— where have I heard it before? ‘Rat! 
Tat! Rat-tat-tat!’ ” 

Suddenly the boy gave a loud cry, and 
sank on his knees beside the Little King, 
trembling violently. 

“Your M-Majesty,” he stammered, 
157 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

“which side of the mountain is nearest the 
land?’ 

“This side,” said the King. 

Then Sam burst into tears of joy, and 
the Little King immediately took out his 
handkerchief and did the same, although 
he had n’t the faintest idea what he was 
crying about. 

“Oh, Your Majesty,” said Sam, when 
he was able to speak at all. “I will tell 
you what this sound is — what it means to 

5J 

me. 

The Little King listened eagerly. 

“You know,” said Sam, his voice quiver- 
ing with excitement, “I told you that in 
Lanwyn there was a mine — a mine ex- 
tending far under the ground and out un- 
der the bay.” 

The King nodded. 

“I have been down into the mine,” con- 
tinued Sam. “I have seen the miners at 
158 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


work, and the noise they make is — oh, 
Your Majesty, can’t you guess? — is ‘ Rat ! 
tfat! Rat-tat-tat ! 9 The noise we hear, 
now, the other side of the wall.” 

The Little King grew deadly pale, but 
said not a word. 

“It means,” continued Sam, “that my 
father’s mine is at this moment but a few 
feet away from me! And to dig a hole 
through to it cannot be a difficult matter.” 

“It means, Giant,” said the Little King, 
sadly, “that you are to leave us. I see. 
I see.” Then walking to Sam, he said, 
“Put your face down here,” and when he 
had done so, the King kissed the boy’s 
cheek. “From the bottom of my heart, I 
am glad for you,” he whispered, and then 
walked quickly away. It had been hard 
for the Little King to bring himself to say 
this, for he was heartbroken at the thought 
of the beloved Giant’s going from him. 
159 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Sam, however, scarcely noticed that he 
had gone, but threw himself flat on the 
ground, listening to the sounds that meant 
so much to him. 

The King, meanwhile, had broken the 
news to the Wee-uns, and although they 
were glad for Sam’s sake, yet the thought 
of his leaving was terrible. 

“My people,” said the King, “for the 
Giant’s sake we are glad, truly glad.” 

“We are, Sire,” sobbed the poor little 
Wee-uns. 

“Then our grief is for ourselves, and let 
us keep it to ourselves. Be brave, Wee- 
uns!” 

So when Sam appeared among them, he 
was met by smiling faces and glad words, 
and indeed so truly sweet-natured were 
these dear little people, that in seeing how 
happy Sam was, they became happy, too, 
160 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


almost forgetting their own grief at the 
separation. 

“We will begin at once to make the 
hole that shall give our dear Giant lib- 
erty,” commanded the King, so on the fol- 
lowing morning the work was begun. 
The Wee-uns bored holes while Sam 
chipped away the rock between. 

For a week they worked, and then they 
knew from the increased loudness of the 
tapping on the other side, that they must 
be within a few inches of the mine. An- 
other half hour would surely bring them 
through. The tunnel started on the 
the ground and went through the moun- 
tain wall, sloping slightly downward. 

That night, the Little King summoned 
all the Wee-uns to say good-bye to their 
dearly loved Giant. It was a terrible or- 
deal for them and for him. They suc- 
161 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


ceeded indeed, in smiling, but such piti- 
ful, sad little smiles, that Sam’s heart 
ached. 

The King made a speech thanking Sam 
publicly for his kindness. 

“He has in every way been a blessing to 
us, and it was he who delivered us from 
our great enemy — the Phoenix. We have 
learned to love — ” Here the Little King 
paused for a moment, and then sat down, 
quite unable to go on. Then Sam got up, 
and in a broken voice tried in turn to thank 
the Wee-uns for what they had done for 
him. 

“I am going,” he said, “to a father, 
mother, and sister, whom I dearly love, 
but when I think of all the loved sisters 
and brothers whom I am to leave behind, 
my heart is heavy.” 

In the morning, the Wee-uns brought 
farewell gifts to Sam. Exquisitely carved 
162 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


stones of various shapes, bunches of choice 
flowers, etc. 

Then with His Majesty on his shoul- 
der, Sam walked to the tunnel, the last 
walk he was ever to take with the Little 
King. 

The Wee-uns had noticed that at noon 
for about an hour, the tapping of the 
miners on the other side was silent. This 
was the time Sam chose to make the final 
break through the wall, for he knew that 
if he came through while the miners were 
at work, they would at once discover the 
country of the Wee-uns, and their secret 
be betrayed. “And you know our privacy 
must be maintained,” said the Little King, 
with much dignity. “You, dear Giant, 
came at my invitation, but we shall never 
admit another.” 

Sam’s intention was to crawl into the 
dark mine, and wait there till someone 
163 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


came. He told the King, however, that 
the miners would see the hole through 
which he had crawled. 

“Oh, no,” said his Majesty. “We will 
attend to the hole, only you must promise 
that you will never tell where it was.” 

Sam promised, and then the King said : 

“Here is my gift to you, Giant,” and 
opening a box which a messenger had just 
put before them, he bade the boy fill his 
pockets with its contents. The box was 
filled to the brim with beautiful, glisten- 
ing stones. Sam took all he could crowd 
into his pockets, and then the King said 
brokenly : 

“Giant, the hour has come.” 

Sam listened. The “Rat! Tat! Tat- 
tat-tat!” which had been going on all the 
morning had ceased. Sam cautiously 
made a small hole in the wall, through 
which he peeped into the dark mine. Sat- 
164 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


isfying himself that no one was in sight, 
the men having probably gone to another 
part of the mine to eat their dinner, he 
hastily broke away the slight shell that 
was left, and crept through. Then turn- 
ing, and with the tears streaming down his 
cheeks, he kissed for the last time the hand 
of the Little King. And the Little King, 
maintaining to the end a brave smile, 
firmly grasped the bottom of the hole with 
both hands, and walked slowly away, 
dragging it up after him, leaving no trace 
behind ! 


165 


VIII 


T HE mine was dark, and Sam stood 
where he was, not daring to move. 
He knew that the men would soon return 
to their work, and so indeed it proved. 
For before long, he heard footsteps, and 
saw lights approaching, and then — he 
heard and saw no more, for he became 
unconscious. 

The approaching miners, saw, with 
amazement, the boy lying there. Lifting 
him tenderly, they put him into the cage, 
and he was brought to the mouth of the 
shaft where he quickly recovered con- 
sciousness. Not stopping to answer the 
miners’ questions as to where he came 
from, how he got into the mine, and who 
he was, (for the men, being strangers, had 
166 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


not recognized him,) he ran as fast as. he 
could to his home. 

With quickly beating heart he opened 
the gate, and walked to the door. The 
window at one side was open, and hear- 
ing voices he stood near and listened. 

His mother was speaking. 

“Yes, it is now more than three years,” 
she said, “since our dear child left us.” 

“And we shall never, never see him 
again,” said his father’s voice. 

“We may, John. We may,” but the 
mother’s voice was broken by sobs. “Re- 
member his message. ‘Am all right. 
Will return if possible.’ ” (Then they 
had found the bottle containing the note.) 

“Oh, I know, wife, but think of the 
boat, the A Roarer, dashed up on the beach 
— without him.” 

“Don’t cry, dear Mother,” said a third 
voice, a sweet voice, which the listening 
167 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


boy recognized as his sister’s. Sam could 
wait no longer, and rushed into the room. 

At first the family were stupefied, and 
then their delight and amazement knew 
no bounds. They cried and laughed and 
asked questions all in one breath. After 
a while when they grew calmer, Sam no- 
ticed that his mother’s hair had turned 
white, and that her sweet face looked 
worn; that his sister had become a beau- 
tiful young girl, while his father who 
looked weak and ill, was sitting in an easy 
chair, with his hand bandaged. 

“What is the matter with your hand, 
Father?” he asked. 

“I injured it in the mine, my boy. I 
greatly fear that I shall never be able to 
use it again, and if I cannot work, what 
will become of us?” 

Then Sam stood up, and said, “Father, 
I have come back to you, I am fourteen 
168 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


years old, and able to work and support 
you all.” 

His mother pressed his hand. Then 
Mr. Carroll, looking at the boy said, 
“But, Sam, I notice that you have not 
changed at all since you left, three years 
ago. How does it happen that you are 
no taller ? You don’t seem to have grown 
an inch. But come, you have as yet an- 
swered none of our questions. We have 
much to hear. Tell us now all your ad- 
ventures. What have you been doing 
and where, where have you been all this 
time 1 ?” 

“Let the boy have supper first, Father,” 
said Mrs. Carroll. To this Sam agreed, 
being very hungry. After supper, they 
drew up their chairs, and making the three 
promise never to reveal what he was about 
to tell them, Sam told the wonderful story, 
beginning with the afternoon, in which he 
169 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


set sail in the A Roarer. They talked and 
talked for hours, until the moon rose high 
in the heavens, and it was time to go to 
bed. Then the mother said: 

“Your room has been ready for you, 
Sam, for these three years, I hoping each 
day that you might come.” 

Sam bade them good-night, and was 
about to go, when happening to put his 
hand in his pocket, he drew out some of 
the glittering stones which the King had 
given him. 

“What are those, Sam? Diamonds?” 
asked Mr. Carroll. 

“I don’t know, Father. The Little 
King gave them to me when we parted.” 

A candle was brought, and on examina- 
tion Mr. Carroll said : 

“I think those are diamonds, Sam. If 
so, what you have there means untold 
wealth! I found one in Australia, years 
170 


IN THE LAND OF THE WEE-UNS 


ago, smaller than any of those. They gave 
me fifty pounds for it in London, and with 
the money I bought this house.” 

It was as Mr. Carroll had said. The 
stones, on examination, proved to be dia- 
monds, and of immense value. 

The Carrolls, now rich people, soon left 
Lanwyn, and for years lived in a beautiful 
house, in the suburbs of London, Sam, un- 
der the influence of food and air in this 
upper world, growing to be a very tall boy. 
He was educated and became a great man. 
It was through his influence that the much- 
talked-of plan to hunt the Sea-Serpent 
was abandoned, for he knew what its suc- 
cess meant to his dear little friends. 

Soon after the Carrolls left Lanwyn, 
there was an accident in the mine there, 
and the sea rushed it, rendering it impos- 
sible to work it any more. Sam was glad 
of this, as he knew that the home of the 
171 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Wee-uns could now never be found, and 
that their secret was forever safe. 

After this he could speak freely of his 
adventures there. 


172 


IX 


Y EARS after, Sam had four little chil- 
dren of his own, and to each one as 
he grew old enough, he told the marvelous 
story of his adventures in Wee-uns land, 
and when the story was done, each child 
always looked up in his father’s face, and 
asked the same question : “But, Papa, how 
could that Little King pull the hole up af- 
ter him?” 

And to each he always made the same 
answer: “That, my dear, is a mystery 
which I have never been able to solve.” 


173 


THE BIG LIGHT ON BURNING 
MOUNTAIN 




THE BIG LIGHT ON BURNING 
MOUNTAIN 

I 



GREAT many years ago, there 


lived in the quiet little town of 
Spitzfinkelburg, a boy whose name was 
Rudolf. His father and mother were 
dead, and he lived with an aunt who, al- 
though kind, was unable to do much for 
him, as she was very poor. When Rudolf 
was old enough, he did errands for the 
peasant farmers, and watched their herds 
of sheep up among the mountains, which 
surrounded the village, and the few pfen- 
nigs he received for this, he gave to his 


aunt. 


There came once a bad season, when the 
crops failed, and the peasants were too 


177 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


poor to hire a herds-boy, and had to run 
their own errands. So Rudolf and his 
aunt were poorer than ever. Then the boy 
made up his mind to go to the village of 
Tafelsdorf. 

“I hear, dear aunt,” he said, “that Herr 
Schmidt, who lives there, and who has 
many sheep, is in need of a boy, and I shall 
go to him, and try to get work.” 

The aunt consented, with many tears, 
for it was their first separation. 

“But, Rudolf,” she said, “Tafelsdorf is 
a day’s journey over a steep untravelled 
road and through dense woods ; canst thou 
keep to the path, and wilt thou not fear?” 
Rudolf smiled, for being a woodsboy he 
knew and loved all the creatures in it. 

On the following morning his aunt gave 
him a long loaf of bread and a little cup, 
out of which he could drink from the many 
mountain springs which she knew he 
i 7 8 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


would pass on the way. Then she kissed 
him tenderly, and with many “lebewohls” 
and "auf wiedersehens” he started, enter- 
ing the forest almost immediately. He 
took the steeper path, which although lit- 
tle used, he knew led more directly to 
Tafelsdorf, and trudged on till noontime. 
Then sitting down by a clear, cold spring, 
which gushed out of a rock at the side of 
the path, he took a long, refreshing drink, 
and opening his bag, broke off a piece of 
the schwarzbrod, which he ate with good 
appetite. Then he lay down on the grass 
for a nap, for he was tired. 

He had slept for about half an hour 
when he was aroused by the pitiful whim- 
pering of an animal. Jumping up, he 
saw crouching near, the strangest looking 
dog you can imagine. He had brown hair 
which had exactly the color and appear- 
ance of pine needles. He was limping to 
179 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Rudolf, whining and holding up one of 
his fore paws. The boy patted the little 
creature, and on examining the paw, found 
that it had been torn or cut in some way. 
Dirt and sticks were in the wound, and the 
dog seemed to be suffering greatly. Ru- 
dolf carried him to the spring, and ten- 
derly washed the paw. Then tearing a 
strip from his handkerchief, he bound it, 
and the patient seemed to feel much bet- 
ter, for he lay down on the soft pine 
needles and licked the boy’s hand grate- 
fully. Rudolf then noticed how thin he 
was, and opening the bag, gave the little 
creature some bread which he ate greed- 
ily. 

“How hungry you are,” said the boy, 
and then, patting him, “How strange your 
coat feels, doggie. It feels and looks ex- 
actly like pine needles, Did you know it?” 
The little dog looked up and winked his 
180 



RUDOLF AND THE PINE NEEDLE DOG 











THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


bright eyes in answer, but did not con- 
tradict this statement. 

Rudolf, putting back into the bag 
what was left of the bread, and picking 
up his stout stick, started to go on his 
way. “I wonder if Herr Schmidt 
would n’t also like a dog to help take care 
of the sheep,” he said. “Come on, and I 
will ask him,” but turning to the dog, he 
found to his amazement that the little 
creature was n’t there — had disappeared, 
while in the place where he had been only 
a moment before, lay a heap of pine need- 
les. Rudolf went to it and felt of it, 
but found that it was only pine needles. 
He next called and whistled loudly, but 
as the dog did n’t appear, he walked on 
without him, feeling much bewildered. 

The path had now grown steeper, and 
the forest more dense than ever, so that 
Rudolf was obliged to go more slowly, 
181 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


and it was quite late in the afternoon be- 
fore he reached the top of the high hill and 
in the distance, could see through the trees 
the church spire and red roofs of Tafels- 
dorf. 

Just then he noticed on the path before 
him, a very old woman, carrying a bundle 
on her head. She was lame, and the 
heavy burden was evidently too much for 
her. Rudolf, although very tired from 
his walk, hurried on to offer help. But 
as he came near, the poor old woman sank 
on the ground with a groan of distress. 

“Can I help you? What is the mat- 
ter?” asked Rudolf. 

“I am weak from hunger. I have eaten 
nothing since yesterday.” 

“Oh,” said Rudolf, “if you are hungry, 
I can give you bread.” 

He was very hungry, too, poor boy, but 
he was generous as well, and knowing the 
182 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

old woman needed the food more than he 
did, he gave her the last of his loaf. She 
took it and, thanking him, ate it raven- 
ously, while he watched her. 

“What strange skin you have/’ he ven- 
tured at last, for her skin was indeed ex- 
traordinary, being very rough and corru- 
gated. 

“Yes,” she answered, “that is because I 
have spent my whole long life in the for- 
est among the trees.” 

“It looks almost like the bark of a tree,” 
continued Rudolf; and the old woman, 
who had now stood up to go, smiled. 

“I, too, must hurry on,” said the boy, and 
stooped to pick up his stick. “And as we 
are going the same way, you will let me 
carry your bundle into the village,” he 
added, when turning to take it from her, 
he found to his utter amazement that the 
old woman was not there! She too, like 

183 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

the pine-needle dog, had vanished, while 
in the place where she had been, and right 
in his path, stood the stump of a tree, 
which he was quite sure had not been there 
before ! 

Rudolf rubbed his eyes, stared at it, 
and then felt of it, but it had only a 
common “stumpy” feeling. He was so 
startled at this that he ran the rest of the 
way down the hill, for he did n’t like to 
stay any longer in a forest where such 
strange things happened. 

Soon he came to a house, the first in 
Tafelsdorf, and asked the woman there if 
she could tell him where Herr Schmidt 
lived. 

“He lives here,” was the welcome an- 
swer, and when Herr Schmidt, who was at 
home, found what Rudolf wanted, he 
gladly took him, for he was in great need 
of a boy to look after his sheep. They 
184 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


knew he was good and trustworthy, for 
they were friends of his aunt at Spitz- 
finkelburg. 

What makes it so strangely light 
here?” asked Rudolf, when he was 
seated in front of the little house, after a 
supper of goat’s milk, cheese, and black- 
bread. 

“Why, don’t you know?” said Herr 
Schmidt. “ ’T is from the big light on 
Burning Mountain. Come, I ’ll show it to 
you,” and taking the boy behind the house, 
he pointed to a high, black mountain, 
several miles away. At it, Rudolf gazed 
in astonishment, for on its summit he 
could see a huge ball of fire, from the 
top of which tongues of flame kept reach- 
ing up, up, up. 

“What is the light?” he asked. 

“Ah,” answered Herr Schmidt, “who- 
ever discovers that will be a great man. 

185 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


I will tell you all that is known of it here- 
abouts. The light has always been there 
— no man remembers when it was not. It 
burns only at night, and its fierce power 
is so great, that for ten miles all about it 
nothing can grow, not a spear of grass, 
no bush, tree,, nor any living thing; all is 
waste. No rain falls there. Up to the 
ten-mile line, all things thrive well, for 
the soil is rich and yields, but beyond that 
everything dies. We call it the ‘death- 
line.’ During the day a dark cloud rests 
always on the mountain top, so that noth- 
ing can be distinctly seen.” 

“But has no one tried to find what this 
light is and to put it out?” interrupted the 
boy. 

“Many have tried, and have started out 
full of courage and hope to go to the 
mountain,” answered Herr Schmidt, “but 
of all, not one, has ever come back. 
186 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


There is an old legend, Rudolf, which 
tells us that a boy may perhaps some day 
free the Fire-Spirit, who is said to dwell 
there. My grandfather, who had it from 
his grandfather, told it to me. What it 
all means I don’t know, but it runs thus : 

On the summit of Brennenberg, rocky and steep, 
My death-watch forever, forever, I keep — 

As the people about me are resting in sleep, 

My death-dealing watch I must keep. 

From side to side, restlessly, ever I sway, 

But the power enchaining me bids me obey. 

So, forever in agony, writhing, I stay. 

My death-dealing watch I must keep. 

But a boy will deliver me. He will come here, 
Curiosity gone from him, kind, without fear, 

Generosity strong in him. He will appear ! 

Until then, my death-watch I ’ll keep.” 

All night these words kept ringing in 
Rudolfs ears, and in the morning an 
idea came to him which he at once decided 
to act upon. It was to make an attempt 

187 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


to reach, himself , the Burning Mountain, 
and try to free the Fire-Spirit, which was 
confined there ! 

Frau and Herr Schmidt tried to dis- 
suade him, when he told them of his inten- 
tion, but the boy was firm. 

“Well,” said Herr Schmidt at last, “if 
you are determined to try, I suppose you 
must.” 

Rudolf rested all the morning, and at 
about five o’clock in the afternoon Frau 
Schmidt gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle 
of water, and a heavy blanket to keep him 
warm during the cold nights. 

“For it will probably take you several 
days to get to the mountain,” she said, “if 
you ever do, poor boy! You will only be 
able to go a short distance each day, for 
the way is very slippery. This we can 
see, standing at the ‘death-line’ and merely 
looking at it.” Then kissing him kindly, 
188 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


she parted from him. Herr Schmidt went 
with him to the line, for it was the boy’s 
intention to spend the night there, starting 
at daybreak on his dangerous journey. 
His heart sank when they came to the 
place, and he looked at the gray, desolate 
waste of country, which lay between him 
and the mysterious mountain. It was as 
the Schmidts had said. Up to the death- 
line everything grew in profusion. There 
all life stopped. Not a tree, shrub, or 
spear of grass was to be seen. Herr 
Schmidt left him, after saying “good-bye.” 

“Auf wiedersehen, Sir,” said Rudolf, 
but Herr Schmidt only repeated, “good- 
bye,” for he thought he should never see 
the boy again. 

The sun sank behind the hills, and 
darkness fell upon the earth. But only 
for a moment, for the light on the Burning 
Mountain shone forth, at first dimly, then 
189 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


growing brighter and brighter till the 
whole country was lighted by it. Rudolf 
looked with interest, and not a little fear, 
at the big fire-ball, which seemed to rest 
lightly upon the mountain-top. 

“What can it be?” he thought. “How 
it sways from side to side, and how the 
tongues of flame shoot up from the top, 
like great arms. Shall I, I wonder, be the 
one who will find out about it?” And 
again the words of the quaint, old legend 
came to him, “and a boy will deliver me.” 
Softly repeating them and with a prayer 
that he might be the one to free the 
country from this terrible curse, Rudolf 
fell fast asleep. 

He was awakened by hearing a pleasant 
voice say, “Good-morning, Rudolf.” 

Sitting up, he looked about, and at first 
saw no one in the gray light, for it was 
barely day, and the sun had just begun to 
190 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

peep above the horizon, while the light 
on the mountain shone forth but dimly. 

“Good-morning,” repeated the voice, 
and then the boy, rubbing his eyes, saw 
standing before him the old woman whom 
he had helped the day before, while at her 
side stood the funny little pine-needle 
dog! 

“So you are going to the Burning 
Mountain,” began the old woman. “And 
you are to free the country from this great 
evil?” 

Rudolf wondered how she knew about 
it, but said, “I am going to try.” 

“Good,” said the old lady, “I will help 
you, and my little dog will help you, and 
perhaps you may succeed.” 

She then seated herself on a mossy stone 
near, and said, “Listen carefully now, to 
what I tell you. You know that if the 
country is ever saved, it will be by a boy, 
191 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


and that that boy must be kind-hearted, 
generous, fearless, and without curiosity. 
So far, all who have started on the terrible 
journey have never returned, for they 
were not fitted to undertake it.” 

“Yes,” said Rudolf, “I have heard all 
this from Herr Schmidt.” 

“Yesterday, in the forest,” continued 
the old woman, “we applied the usual test 
and found that you were kind-hearted and 
generous, for you were kind to the little 
dog, and you generously parted with your 
last bit of bread to help us. Now, as you 
may have guessed, I am a fairy, as is the 
little brown dog — my son — and we will 
each do something for you in return. As 
I have said, to reach successfully the Burn- 
ing Mountain, one must be kind, gener- 
ous, fearless, and without curiosity. 
Kind and generous you are. Fearless I 
think you are, but curiosity you have, I 
192 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


suppose, as do all mortals. Now, the help 
which we intend to give is to take from 
you all curiosity and all fear.” 

“Take them from me?” gasped the 
astonished boy. “But how can you pos- 
sibly do that?” 

The fairy smiled as she said, “That very 
question proves that you have your share 
of curiosity. I shall remove that myself 
— my son, the fear. Neither operation 
will be in the least painful, so do not be 
alarmed,” and Rudolf after a little hesita- 
tion consented to have it done. 

“First take off your coat and turn your 
back to me,” the fairy directed, and the 
boy obeyed. Then she put her hand care- 
fully between the shoulders. “Dear me, 
dearie me!” she said, in a moment; “I find 
that you have a great deal of curiosity. 
It is indeed most fortunate that you hap- 
pened to meet me.” For several minutes 
193 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


more she worked, and then Rudolf could 
feel her take something from him. 

“What does curiosity look like? Let 
me see it,” begged the boy. 

“Ah, ha,” said the fairy; “I am afraid I 
can’t have taken it all out yet, or you 
would n’t have any curiosity to see it,” so 
she searched carefully, and soon drew 
forth triumphantly a long root, which had 
escaped her before. 

And now Rudolf found to his surprise 
that he did not care to see it; for as every 
bit of curiosity had now been taken from 
him, he had no curiosity about it. 

“Now we will remove the fear,” said 
the fairy, excitedly, for she was delighted 
at her success. “My son does that, usu- 
ally, for as other dogs scent birds, he has 
the power of scenting fear, and allows no 
bit to escape.” So she held up the small 
194 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


dog who evidently found and seized some- 
thing — which he quickly drew out. 

“Is that all 1 ?” said the fairy, who 
seemed surprised. “Well, Rudolf, you 
have very little fear, but still it was neces- 
sary to have even that little removed; and 
dear me, you had enough curiosity for ten 
boys, and ’tis lucky for you that both 
things are now gone, for with them you 
could never have made the journey in 
safety.” 

The fairy now gave Rudolf final direc- 
tions. 

“It will take you three days to reach the 
mountain, for you must onl> travel during 
the day. Walk directly toward the moun- 
tain, and when the day darkens, the light 
will begin to shine from the top. The in- 
stant it does so — when you first see the 
faintest red tinge, turn your back to it, 

195 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

and wrapping yourself in your blanket, 
sleep till daylight. Those who have gone 
before have looked at the light, full of 
curiosity, and it has meant death to them 
all,” said the fairy, sadly. 

“But,” interrupted Rudolf, “I looked at 
the light from Herr Schmidt’s house, and 
it did n’t kill me.” 

“That was from the other side of the 
line. After crossing it, no one may look at 
the light and live. Keep your back to- 
ward the light. You will hear and see 
horrible things during the two nights you 
spend on the way, but whatever you hear, 
whatever you see, do not be tempted to 
turn. Remember this, and nothing can 
harm you. Although you will not see us, 
my son and I will be with you all the time, 
and watching over you. On the after- 
noon of the second day you will reach the 
top of the mountain, and will then be told 
196 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


what to do. And now go, for the way is 
slippery and time is precious. First, 
however, what have you in that bag, and 
in the big bottle?” 

Rudolf told her, and the fairy smiled. 

“Here,” she said, “take these,” and she 
gave him a small, round biscuit, and a tiny 
flask filled with water. “I always carry 
these when I travel,” said she. “They 
are light and convenient, the bottle being 
a self-filler, and the biscuit a self-maker, 
and so no matter how much you eat and 
drink, you will always find something 
left.” 

Rudolf was at first too astonished to say 
anything, but at last managed to thank 
the fairy — both fairies — for their kind- 
ness. Then rolling up the heavy blanket, 
he tucked it under his arm, and saying 
“Good-bye,” started. 

“Stop, stop,” shouted the fairy, and 
197 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


running after him, she said, “Don’t take 
that heavy robe; here is a better one, my 
regular travelling blanket,” and she gave 
to Rudolf a thick bit of cloth, about the 
size of a postage stamp, at which he looked 
in disgust! 

“Is that a blanket?” he asked, turning 
it over in his hand. 

“Yes, by pulling the four corners at 
night, you can stretch it to any size you 
desire,” she explained, “and in the morn- 
ing as soon as the sun rises, it shrinks back 
to its original size. It is a very conven- 
ient thing.” 

Rudolf took it gratefully, and put it in 
his pocket. 

“Now, one more thing and you may go. 
After your journey, if all is successful, 
spend your first night here in the forest, 
when what has been taken from you shall 
be restored.” 


198 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

Rudolf promised, and again saying 
good-bye, went on. The way was very 
slippery, and at every step he took, he 
slid back, which was most discouraging. 
When noontime came, and the sun was 
directly over his head, he sat down to rest 
and eat his dinner. He drank from the 
tiny flask of water, and when he had done 
so, found to his delight that it was as full 
as ever! Then taking the biscuit from 
his pocket he began to eat, and as soon as 
he had eaten a mouthful from it the bis- 
cuit immediately filled itself up again, 
and became as before, apparently un- 
touched. After a short rest, and a shud- 
dering glance at the desolate, gray waste 
about him, he walked steadily on, all the 
afternoon, till at last night came and the 
sun sank behind the hill. No sooner had 
it done so than Rudolf, looking at the top 
of the cloud-capped mountain, noticed a 
199 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


faint, red glow. Without a moment’s 
hesitation he took the little postage-stamp 
blanket from his pocket, and pulled the 
four corners as the fairy had directed. To 
his delight he found that it stretched very 
easily, and when the blanket was the right 
size he rolled himself in it, and turning 
his back to the mountain ate a piece of the 
wonderful self-making biscuit, took a 
drink of water and fell fast asleep. 

He was aroused by hearing a most ear- 
piercing yell which came from behind him. 
Sitting up, he listened intently, but for a 
moment all was quiet. Then the yell was 
repeated, and this time quite near. Ru- 
dolf was not in the least afraid, for how 
could he be, when all fear had been taken 
from him? Nor did he wonder what kind 
of a creature had given that terrible roar, 
for as you know, every bit of curiosity had 
been removed. In a moment he heard an 


200 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


awful voice. It was so near, now, that the 
boy jumped, being startled, though not, 
of course, afraid. 

“Rudolf,” it roared, “turn to me, that 
I may look upon your face.” 

“Oh, no,” said Rudolf, “I am not going 
to turn round, Sir.” 

“Let me look upon your face,” repeated 
the voice. 

“I shall not turn,” said the boy firmly; 
“and if you really want to see my face, 
why it is on this side, and you may come 
round and look at it.” 

At this answer the creature gave such a 
roar, that the earth trembled. 

“Oh, dear,” said Rudolf, “I really 
wish you would n’t make such a noise. 
Can’t you manage to roar more gen- 
tly?” 

“Do you know, rash boy, to whom you 
are speaking?” 


201 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“No,” said Rudolf, “nor have I the 
slightest curiosity to know.” 

“Boy,” roared the creature, “I am a lion 
— but not like the lions of your country. 
I am twenty feet long and I have eight 
feet, two tails, and two heads.” 

“Oh,” said the boy, “then no wonder 
your roar is so loud.” 

“My eyes are as big as saucers,” contin- 
ued the lion, paying no attention to the 
interruption. 

“I wish you would be kind enough to 
shut those saucers,” suggested the boy. 

“Ugh!” snarled the lion, savagely. 
“Are you not afraid?” 

“No,” said Rudolf, “not in the least.” 

“You will never return to your home, 
for I shall eat you as I have the others who 
came before you. Are you not afraid, 
now?” 

“No,” said Rudolf, calmly, “I am 
202 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


sleepy, but I cannot say that I am afraid.” 

“Perhaps you think that I am not a real 
lion? I will come nearer, that I may 
prove to you that I am.” 

“I have not thought about you at all,” 
said the boy, “but if it pleases you to prove 
anything, do so by all means.” 

With an angry snarl the lion ap- 
proached. Rudolf could hear the crunch, 
crunching of the dry earth under the many 
paws, and thought how awfully afraid he 
should have been only yesterday, and how 
fortunate it was that he happened to meet 
the fairy. Nearer and nearer crept the 
lion, till he stood almost directly over the 
boy, who could feel the creature’s hot 
breath on his cheek. 

“Do you own now that I am ‘real’?” 

“Certainly,” said Rudolf, politely, “and 
as I am quite willing to own that you are 
real, and that you are the biggest and 
203 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


noisiest lion I ever met, I should be most 
grateful if you would go home, and not 
stand there boasting about yourself any 
longer . 55 

“Grrrrrrrrr! ! 55 roared the lion, who was 
as angry as it was possible for an angry 
lion to be. “Do you feel this 4 ? 55 he con- 
tinued, and he put one large heavy paw on 
the boy’s shoulder. “And now, now Ru- 
dolf, are you not afraid ? 55 

“No, I am not afraid , 55 said the boy im- 
patiently. “But, lion, I see what fine, 
soft fur you have, and if you would only 
lie down quietly, and let me use you for 
a pillow, I should be very grateful . 55 

This was too much for any lion, to say 
nothing of such a monster lion as this, to 
bear. With a blood-curdling roar, louder 
than any he had given before, he went 
slowly away, and Rudolf could hear him 
roaring over and over again, “He has no 
204 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

fear, he has no fear.” This cry grew 
fainter and fainter till at last it died away 
in the distance altogether, and in the si- 
lence that followed, Rudolf heard a 
triumphant bark which he at once recog- 
nized as that of the small pine-needle dog, 
the fairy’s son, and remembering her 
words, “We will be near you, although 
not visible”; he was glad and fell fast 
asleep, and did not wake till morning. 
Then, feeling cold, he sat up to find that 
the day had begun and that the blanket 
was shrinking rapidly. He waited till it 
was the proper size, then put it in his 
pocket away from the light. Eating a 
piece of the magic biscuit, and taking a 
long drink from the flask, he put them also 
into his pocket, the biscuit showing no 
sign of having just furnished a big break- 
fast for a hungry boy, and the bottle as 
full as a bottle could well be. 

205 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Then Rudolf again started on his tramp. 
He felt very tired and his feet began to 
ache before he stopped for his noon rest, 
for slipping back half way as he did at 
every step was most discouraging. 

After his dinner and a rest which he 
greatly needed, he trudged steadily on all 
the afternoon, and found himself at the 
foot of Brennenberg, just as the sun sank. 
There he stood for a moment, looking 
steadily at the top of the mountain which 
towered above him, and where he could 
now dimly see something big and black. 
His heart beat quickly, but only from ex- 
citement, for of course, he could feel no 
curiosity as to what that strange black 
mass might be. He waited till darkness 
came and he could see a dull, red glow 
coming from it. Then quickly turning his 
back to it, he ate his supper, stretched the 
accommodating blanket to the right size, 
206 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


and rolling himself in it, fell asleep. 
But alas! for tired Rudolf, he was soon 
roused by a voice — a pleasant voice this 
time, saying: “Turn, Rudolf, for di- 
rectly behind you lies the greatest treasure 
the world has ever known.” 

“Indeed?” said the boy, politely. 
“Well, I am sorry to refuse, but I am not 
going to turn that way to-night.” 

“Ah, but Rudolf,” begged the voice, 
“it is so beautiful!” 

“I have no doubt of it,” he answered. 

“Have you then no wish to see for your- 
self what it is?” 

“No,” said Rudolf. 

“But, boy, it will make you rich — 
richer than anyone has ever been before.” 

“Indeed?” said he. “Then if you in- 
tend to give this gift to me, I am sure I 
shall be most grateful.” 

“And do you not wish to know what it 
207 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


may be? Have you no curiosity about 
it?” 

“Not the slightest,” said Rudolf. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” moaned the voice, “he is 
then without curiosity l One has at last 
come to us who is without curiosity. 
Alas! Alas!” 

This was repeated over and over again, 
growing fainter and fainter, and finally 
dying in the distance, with a wailing cry. 
Then Rudolf fell quickly asleep. But 
not for long was the poor, tired boy al- 
lowed to rest, for in about an hour, he was 
again aroused by something. At first, he 
did not know what it was, and lay there 
listening. Then he heard quite near, a 
strange, long-drawn “hsssss” followed by 
silence. If you or I had been there, I am 
sure we should have almost died of fright 
unless indeed, we too, had been fortunate 
enough to meet the kind fairy first. 
208 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

Even Rudolf felt his heart begin to beat 
•quickly from habit, but being so entirely 
without fear, he only said, “Something 
else to disturb me. Am I then to have no 
sleep to-night?” 

Once more came the long, low “hsssss,” 
and a voice, a deep, terrible voice said: 
“Boy, prepare to die! You have indeed 
escaped the lion, and the temptress, but 
no one has ever escaped me ! That is my 
proud boast.” 

“So I hear,” said Rudolf, calmly. 

This seemed to enrage the creature. 
“Do you know who I am?” he shrieked. 

“No,” said Rudolf. “Nor have I the 
slightest curiosity as to who you may be.” 

“Then, if you have no curiosity, you 
shall at least have fear. Listen and trem- 
ble ! I am the King of the Serpents !” 

“Oh,” said Rudolf, “are you indeed?” 

“Are you trembling?” asked the snake. 
209 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“No,” said the boy, “but I am glad to 
meet your Majesty, and hope you will 
excuse my being obliged to turn my 
back.” 

“I will not excuse it,” said the snake, 
angrily. “I command you to turn this 
way, for I am going to kill you, and I 
never strike an enemy in the back.” 

“Quite right,” said the boy, calmly, 
“but if you strike at all I fear you will 
have to make an exception in my case, for 
I am not going to turn my face toward the 
Burning Mountain.” 

“Do you then defy me, rash boy 1 ? 
Turn, turn, turn!” screamed the snake. 

“No, no, no!” answered Rudolf, with 
equal firmness. 

“I will give you one chance more,” 
warned the snake, “for perhaps you think 
I am not real? To prove that I am, I 
will let you see my shadow.” And he 


210 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


raised himself so that his body came be- 
tween Rudolf and the light, which threw 
his fearful shadow far off on the field, 
where, without turning, the boy could 
easily see it. At the huge writhing mass, 
which coiled and uncoiled itself before his 
eyes, Rudolf looked with much astonish- 
ment and interest. 

“Well,” he said at last, “I congratulate 
your Majesty, for a king who has a shadow 
like that, deserves it.” 

“I am sixty feet long,” said the snake, 
proudly. 

“Again, I congratulate your Majesty,” 
was the boy’s answer. “And now, good- 
night.” 

“Rudolf,” said the snake, hissing an- 
grily. “Have you then not heard what I 
have been saying to you, and do you not 
understand that I intend to kill you?” 

Then the snake crawled up to him. 


211 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Nearer and nearer he came, till his cold, 
slimy body touched the boy’s hand. 

“Ugh!” exclaimed Rudolf in disgust. 

“Ah, ha!” said the snake. “Now you 
are afraid?” 

“No,” said the boy, angrily; “the only 
thing I am afraid of is that you will stay 
here all night, chattering. I am very 
tired, and of course I can’t sleep when 
bores are talking to me.” 

For a moment the snake was too angry 
to speak. Then : 

“I a boa? I a boa?” he hissed, lashing 
the country about him with his tail. 
“You have the audacity to speak so to me, 
the King of Snakes? I see then that you 
have no fear, or you would not dare to 
insult me in this way. He is without 
fear ! He is without curiosity ! Without 
curiosity — without fear!” 

And then, much to Rudolf’s relief, he 


212 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


could hear the snake crawl slowly off, his 
huge body scattering stones in all direc- 
tions while the cry died away in the dis- 
tance. 

Then when all was silent, the boy heard 
a voice directly overhead, and which he 
recognized saying, “Courage, Rudolf, 
courage, for your trials are nearly over. 
Good-night.” 

Knowing that his friend, the fairy, was 
near, and comforted by the thought, he 
fell asleep. 

When morning came he was again 
awakened by feeling cold, and found that 
the sun was shining brightly and had al- 
ready shrunk the blanket to an alarmingly 
small size. In fact, if Rudolf had not 
seized it, and quickly thrust it into his 
dark pocket away from the sunlight, it 
would certainly have disappeared alto- 
gether! 


213 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

He ate his breakfast, and then looked 
at the mountain before him. The top, the 
cloud resting on it as usual, did not seem 
to be more than a mile, or a mile and a 
half away, but how high it looked, how 
inaccessible were its steep slippery sides, 
unbroken by tree, shrub, or any living 
thing. However, remembering what he 
had already gone through, and what the 
journey meant, if successfully made, he 
began the climb. Two or three times that 
morning the boy stopped, almost dis- 
couraged, and then bravely went on again, 
till noon came when, exhausted, he threw 
himself down in the shade of a big rock, 
ate his dinner, and rested. Pouring out 
some water from the wonderful little bot- 
tle, his exhaustless spring, he bathed his 
poor feet, which were badly swollen. 
Greatly refreshed by this, he went on 
nearer and nearer the top, which, how- 
214 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


ever, he could not see at all now, for the 
way had grown so steep that it was almost 
directly over his head and between him 
and it were many huge rocks. 

Soon he heard a strange, hoarse roaring 
and rumbling, which ought to have fright- 
ened him dreadfully, but, of course, 
could n’t. As he went on farther, this 
grew louder and louder till the noise was 
deafening. After a few more struggles 
he came to the largest rock of all, and, 
dragging himself up laboriously, found 
that his trials were over at last — he had 
reached the top of the Burning Mountain 
— the first human being who had been 
there for many hundred years ! 

Sitting down, the tired but excited boy 
gazed with interest at what was before 
him. In the middle of the level space was 
what looked like an enormous balloon! 
It was as big as a house, and seemed to 
215 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


be covered with thick, black india- 
rubber. It was firmly fastened to the 
ground by a stem-like arrangement, and 
was swaying restlessly from side to side, 
in a vain attempt to escape, while from it 
came the strange, roaring noise that Ru- 
dolf had heard for the last few hours. 
Suddenly this ceased, and from the bal- 
loon came a loud deep voice — the voice of 
the Fire Spirit saying: 

But a boy will deliver me. He will come here, 

Curiosity gone from him, kind, without fear. 

Generosity strong in him — He will appear! 

Until then my death-watch I ’ll keep. 

“Art thou my deliverer, boy?” 

“I — I — I don’t know,” stammered Ru- 
dolf, who, although not afraid, was some- 
what awe-struck. 

“Art thou generous?” asked the deep 
voice. 


216 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


“The fairy said I was generous,” an- 
swered the boy. 

“Art thou kind*?” 

“She told me that I was kind,” said Ru- 
dolf. 

“Art thou without fear and without 
curiosity'?” 

“The fairies took from me both fear and 
curiosity, and the lion and the king-snake 
assured me that I was without curiosity, 
and that I knew not fear,” answered Ru- 
dolf. 

“Then thou art he,” said the voice. 
“Thou art the deliverer of the Fire Spirit, 
and he is grateful to thee. Cut the cord 
that binds him to earth and he will away, 

away!” 

Rudolf did as he was bid, and approach- 
ing the balloon, took out his sharp knife, 
and with one quick cut freed the poor 
Fire Spirit! Up, up, up he soared at once 
217 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


with the cloud, which enveloped and rose 
with him. Up, up, up, higher and higher, 
Rudolf watching him with much inter- 
est. The boy had thrown himself flat on 
the ground and gazed at the balloon, 
which was so high in the air, that it looked 
like a small black speck. As he looked, 
this speck began to grow larger, to spread 
itself out more and more like a big cloud. 
Larger and larger yet it grew, while dark- 
ness came to the country under it. Yet 
larger and larger it became, till it had en- 
tirely covered the ten miles of gray, deso- 
late waste, where nothing had grown for 
so many years. Rudolf knew that the 
Fire Spirit was there above the cloud, for 
he could see him looking down through 
the cracks occasionally, his eye gleaming 
brightly in the darkness, and he could also 
hear the roaring of the mighty voice. 

The people below in all the villages 
218 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


thought this sound was thunder, and that 
the gleaming eye looking through the 
black clouds was lightning — but they 
were only simple peasants. 

Again the great Fire Spirit raised his 
voice, which echoed and echoed among the 
mountains. Then for a moment came 
breathless silence, while the black cloud 
seemed to rest heavily on the earth. 
Next a soft pattering was heard and then 
— down, down, came the rain!!! The 
dear, welcome rain, that had not fallen on 
that dreary waste within man’s memory. 
How gratefully the parched earth wel- 
comed it ! How thirstily she drank it in ! 
For an hour did this downpour continue, 
after which the clouds rolled away, and 
the sun shone again, and then Rudolf 
gazed about him in amazement, for on all 
sides, as far as the eye could reach, the 
earth was covered with a mantle of soft, 
219 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


tender grass! The Fire Spirit was free 
— the rain had done its work — and the 
grass had begun to sprout! Nor was this 
all, for as Rudolf gazed, he also noticed 
little tufts of green appearing in the grass, 
which he recognized as bushes and trees, 
which had also immediately begun to 
grow. Fatigue and all, forgotten, the boy 
ran like a wild creature down the moun- 
tain-side, which he no longer found slip- 
pery, for at each step his feet sank in the 
new-grown grass. Down he flew, and be- 
fore the afternoon was quite over, he 
reached what had once been the death-line, 
but which he could now only find because 
of the crowd of people from all the vil- 
lages about, who had come to see the 
wonder. When they saw him, they 
shouted, “Long live Rudolf — King Ru- 
dolf, who saved this land. He shall be 
king over it, and it shall be called ‘Ru- 


220 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


dolfsland.’ His castle we will build on 
Brennenberg, and he shall look over the 
fertile fields which he saved, and shall be 
glad.” 

Poor Rudolf was so tired and so happy 
that he burst into tears at these kind 
words. Then brokenly thanking all the 
people, he asked them to leave him, as he 
wished to spend the night alone in the 
forest, for he remembered his promise to 
the fairy. And after they had gone he 
stretched out the magic blanket, and fell 
fast asleep, turning now any way he 
pleased, as there was no light on the 
mountain to be either looked at or 
avoided. When he opened his eyes early 
the next morning, the fairy and her son 
stood by his side. 

“Rudolf,” said she, “you have indeed 
done well.” 

“Kind fairy, how could I have failed to 


221 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


succeed, after what you and your son did 
for me?” 

“Ah, well,” answered the fairy, “had 
you not been such a thoroughly good boy, 
we should not have helped you. But 
now, you shall have what we took from 
you. First we will put back the fear,” 
and she took from her pocket a lump of 
— something. Rudolf saw it, of course, 
but unfortunately, having no curiosity, 
looked at it carelessly. This he bitterly 
regretted afterward, for it was an unusual 
chance for him to have seen something 
rare. 

Rudolf now turned his back to the fairy, 
who gave the fear to her pine-needle son. 
Next she lifted the dog, and in a moment 
the fear was returned to its rightful owner. 

“I bring up my son to always put back 
in their places things that have been taken 
out,” she said, and from the severe way in 
222 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


which she spoke, Rudolf suspected that 
some of the pine-needle sons were not 
properly brought up by their fairy mam- 
mas. 

Next the boy’s curiosity was returned to 
him, the fairy pushing it firmly into place. 

“Who was in the balloon? How long 
has he been there? Why was he there? 
Where has he gone? Why — ” 

“Stop, stop, Rudolf,” interrupted the 
fairy, laughing. “One question at a time; 
although, after all, with such an unusual 
amount of curiosity, it is not surprising 
that you do ask questions. I will tell you 
the whole story; but, first, we must have 
something to eat.” 

So Rudolf produced the serviceable bis- 
cuit and bottle, and the three ate their 
breakfast, after which the fairy told the 
following remarkable story: 

“Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, 
223 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


when the Fire Spirit was quite a young 
thing, he travelled from country to coun- 
try, dashing madly through the air, kind- 
hearted, to be sure, but not to be relied 
upon in the least. This is often the way 
with the young, and at first, in his case, 
it did not matter very much. After a 
while he grew older and stronger, and the 
usual gift of land, which all grown Fire 
Spirits have, was given to him — with the 
power of sending down rain over it, for, 
you see, each Fire Spirit has his own ten 
miles of country, over which he is sup- 
posed to watch, and to send down the rain 
when needed. But although, as I said, 
the spirit was kind, he did much harm, for 
he did not realize his power and that 
whatever he looked at too long, was sure 
to die. He raced over the country, send- 
ing down showers where they were not 
needed, and leaving the dry and parched 
224 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 

places, dry and parched. So that instead 
of a blessing he became a curse to the 
country about, and people learned to 
dread his coming. 

“Then one day, he met a soft, dark 
cloud, and asked her to go with him on his 
travels. She consented and told him why 
the people disliked him, and that she 
would help him and stand between him 
and them. This she did, and from that 
time on, the people blessed the Fire 
Spirit, and were glad of his coming. He 
could now look at the country through the 
cloud, seeing with his quick, bright eyes 
where rain was needed, and sending it 
down. One day, however, the cloud 
went away for a moment, and the Fire 
Spirit took that time, unfortunately, for 
examining a castle not far from the moun- 
tain. Steadily he looked at it, then 
darted down nearer to get a better view, 
225 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


when suddenly, to his dismay, he saw 
tongues of fire shooting up from it, and in 
an instant the whole place was in flames ! 
Although the cloud rushed to him, and 
they summoned rain, they were unable to 
put the fire out, and the castle was burned 
to the ground. In this house lived, un- 
fortunately, a great magician. The peas- 
ants called him the ‘Man-of-Power.’ He 
swore he would be revenged on the Fire 
Spirit, who had done him this injury. 
But though he tried in every way to get at 
him, he could n’t, for the cloud was always 
with him, and protected him. 

“But one day, the Fire Spirit, being 
very near the earth, stopped on the moun- 
tain-top to rest and sleep, the cloud en- 
veloping him as usual, so that he might 
injure nothing. After he had fallen 
asleep, the cloud left him, for a moment, 
and that was the moment for which the 
226 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


Man-of-Power had so long been waiting. 
Taking a magic blanket, which he had 
prepared, he quickly threw it over the 
Spirit, fastening it firmly to the ground. 
The Fire Spirit awoke, and struggling en- 
raged, succeeded in tearing one little hole 
in the rubber at the top, through which, 
however, he was unable to escape. 

“ £ You shall roam about no more/ said 
the wizard. 'Here you shall remain for- 
ever, having the power to burn only at 
night.’ 

“ ‘Forever?’ moaned the poor Fire 
Spirit. ‘Will no one be permitted to free 
me ?’ 

“ ‘Well,’ said the Man-of-Power, smil- 
ing wickedly. ‘I will give you one chance. 
If a boy should come who is kind and 
generous, fearless and without curiosity, 
I will allow him to cut the cord and free 
you/ 


227 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“ ‘But,’ said the Fire Spirit, ‘there was 
never a boy in the whole world, who was 
kind and generous, and also fearless and 
without curiosity.’ 

“ ‘I have certainly never happened to 
meet one/ answered the magician. 

“And so he left the poor imprisoned Fire 
Spirit raging and struggling for three 
hundred years, the poor cloud hovering 
always over him, and waiting anxiously 
for his deliverance. For fear one should 
come to release him, the cruel magician 
appointed three guardians of the path, 
who, until now, have killed all who tried 
to approach. Shining at night, through 
the hole made so long ago, the Fire Spirit 
reached ever up, and gazed angrily about 
him. This fierce gaze and the lack of 
rain made the country what it was. 
That is now happily all changed by you, 
dear boy. 


228 


THE BURNING MOUNTAIN 


“And now, Rudolf, — King Rudolf, — 
good-bye. You will have a happy life, 
and you will rule well over your kingdom, 
‘Rudolfsland.’ I shall be often near you, 
but you will never see me again.” 

“Good-bye, dear fairy,” said the boy, 
putting his arms about her. Then wip- 
ing away the tears that blinded him, he 
found that the good fairy had vanished, 
and that he was clasping in his arms only 
the stump of a tree, while by its side lay 
a little heap of pine needles ! 


22g 





' 

m 


















II 
































































































































































































































































































A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


A FAIRY STORY 




A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


A FAIRY STORY 

T HEODORE was a leap-year boy, 
and on the 29th of February he was 
eight years old. He lived with his father 
and mother “way down South. 55 That is, 
they lived there during the winter, for 
Theodore’s mother was not very strong, 
and could not bear the cold. So every 
January, just when the “rubber boot, 
snow-ball, and general good-time season 55 
began in the north, the family came to 
their sunny, southern home. Theodore 
sometimes felt very badly at leaving the 
north, but as he loved his mother dearly, 
he never let her know how it was with 
him. 


233 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


To-day, he had gone for a walk in the 
woods, for it was Saturday — a holiday. 
His mother gave him his luncheon, 
wrapped in a napkin, and with this, his 
fishing-rod over his shoulder and his small 
dog, “Imp” at his heels, off he went. A 
long tramp brought him to a brook, where, 
for half an hour, he fished — catching 
nothing. But then, he seldom did catch 
anything, so that did n’t disturb him, 
and he sat there patiently waiting, wait- 
ing. 

At last he began to feel hungry, and 
promptly decided that it was lunch-time. 
Imp woke up, and seemed to think so, too, 
for he barked and wagged his tail furi- 
ously. Giving the dog his share, Theo- 
dore ate his own, and stretching himself 
out at full length on the soft pine needles, 
prepared to take a nap. The day was 
hot, scarcely a breath stirred the tall pine 
234 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


trees. Taking off his jacket the boy 
rolled it up for a pillow, and bracing it 
against the trunk of a big tree near, was 
soon fast asleep. He was aroused by 
feeling something hard pressing against 
his head. Sitting up, he looked behind 
him, and saw, to his amazement, right in 
the tree, a little door! Rubbing his eyes, 
he looked again. Yes, it was no mistake, 
there was a door about two feet high, 
against the knob of which his head had 
been pressing. In it was a key. Un- 
locking the door he opened it, and lying 
down, looked through it into a lovely 
garden ! 

“Oh, this is just like Alice in Wonder - 
land” he thought, “only here there are 
no c drink-me’ bottles, or £ eat-me’ cakes to 
make me small, so I shan’t be able to get 
in. Well,” said he at last, “if I can’t get 
in to that lovely garden, then I won’t 

23 5 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


look at it,” so resolutely shutting and 
locking the little door, he went down to 
the brook. 

Imp was already there, and had plunged 
into the cool water, where he seemed to 
be having a fine time. Theodore stood 
watching him when he suddenly noticed 
that the dog’s head looked strangely 
small. 

“Imp,” he called, “come here, come 
here,” and the dog obeyed, crawling up 
on the bank, and shaking himself violent- 
ly. “Imp, what has happened to you?” 
screamed Theodore, starting back in 
astonishment, for the dog who came out 
of the water was just half the size of the 
dog who had gone into it ! He had shrunk 
while taking his bath. You know how 
cloth sometimes shrinks when it is put 
into water? Well, something of the sort 
had apparently happened to poor Imp. 
236 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


He evidently felt unlike himself — to 
realize that he was not as much of a dog 
as he had been, for he looked sadly at 
himself, and then barked. It was such 
a ridiculous little bark, sounding not 
much louder than the chirp of a wee 
canary, that Theodore, in spite of his 
alarm, burst out laughing. Suddenly, an 
idea came to him. Why, if the water 
had had such an effect on Imp, should n’t 
he, too, get into it, and be shrunk to the 
proper size to get through the tree-door ! 

In a twinkling he decided to do it. So 
taking off his clothes he stepped cautious- 
ly into the brook, then plunging into a 
deep pool, paddled about for a moment 
and ran out. 

“Hurrah!” he shouted, for, on looking 
at himself, he saw that he, like Imp, had 
shrunk, and was much, much smaller. 

Running eagerly to the tree-door, he 
237 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


found, however, that he was still too large 
to go through comfortably. 

“One more plunge will bring me to the 
right size,” he thought, and sure enough, 
after taking it and going again to the 
small door, he found he was now just the 
right height. 

In great excitement, he opened the door, 
and was about to go in, when he remem- 
bered that he was entirely without clothes. 

“Oh dear, what shall I do*?” he said, 
for his old ones seemed like a giant’s to 
him. Then he caught sight of the napkin 
in which his luncheon had been wrapped. 
With a piece of string which he took 
from his trousers pocket, he tied the nap- 
kin round his waist for a skirt. Then 
pulling out his handkerchief, he folded 
it as a shawl, fastening it with a safety- 
pin with which his luncheon had been 
238 


A LEAP-YEAR ROY 

pinned. Then calling Imp the two 
entered the garden, shutting the door be- 
hind them. 

“Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful gar- 
den,” exclaimed the boy, and “bow-wow” 
said Imp, which probably meant, “that ’s 
so.” 

About them grew flowers of all colors, 
and the air was filled with delicious per- 
fume. Theodore could also hear birds 
singing sweetly, but he could not see 
them. 

“How warm it is here,” said he, and 
he was very glad it was, for napkins and 
handkerchiefs make rather chilly clothes. 
“I wonder why it is so warm,” he added. 

“Because we always keep a good fire,,” 
answered a Voice. 

Theodore looked about, but saw no one. 
“Who is speaking?” he asked. 

239 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“I am,” was the answer; “but you 
need n’t look for me, for you can’t see me. 
I am invisible.” 

“Oh,” said Theodore, which was per- 
haps all he could say under the circum- 
stances. 

“Yes,” continued the Voice, “we use 
the best furnace made. ’T is a fine 
heater, and has the very largest size per- 
fumery attachment — we are obliged to 
have the largest size — for you see, there 
are so many flowers in the garden to be 
supplied.” 

“But do you mean that the furnace 
gives perfume to the flowers'?” asked 
Theodore. 

“Certainly,” was the answer. “Rather 
a novel idea, don’t you think so? Nor 
is that all, little boy, for our flowers, in 
addition to perfume, give out heat as 
well. That gives them their name ‘hot- 
240 

















A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


house 5 flowers, you know. Examine them 
yourself . 55 

So Theodore, going to a beautiful big 
rose near, looked carefully at it, and 
found right in its heart, a tiny register 
about half an inch square, through which 
a stream of hot and deliciously-perfumed 
air was constantly pouring! 

He was next attracted by the loud sing- 
ing of birds. “I hear birds singing sweet- 
ly , 55 he said to the Voice, “but I don’t see 
them . 55 

“Oh, no , 55 it answered, “they, too, are 
invisible — everyone is, just here. You 
see, this tree-country is divided into three 
parts, the Slumber-Room, the Dining- 
Room (which you will reach very soon) 
and Invisibility-Court, where you are now, 
and where everyone is invisible . 55 

“Dear me , 55 said Theodore, who was 
somewhat alarmed; “then I think, Sir, 
241 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


that Imp and I had better hurry on at 
once, for I am really afraid that if we 
stay here, we too, shall become invisible.” 

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the Voice, “that 
is really a very good joke. You are invis- 
ible, little boy, both you and your dog. 
You have been so ever since you came in.” 

And Theodore found that the Voice had 
spoken truly, for although he could hear 
Imp barking, and knew that he was close 
at his heels, he was unable to see him, and 
when he tried to look at himself, he simply 
was n’t there — although he could n’t help 
feeling that he was. 

“I should like to be myself again,” said 
he, and “bow-wow,” echoed Imp, heart- 
ily. 

“Well,” said the Voice, “you will be 
now, for here we are at the Dining- 
Room,” and Theodore looking up, saw 
before them, an arch, and on it, in big 
242 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


letters, made of “hot-house” flowers, the 
words “DINING-ROOM.” “Here I will 
leave you.” 

“Oh, don’t,” begged Theodore, “you 
have been so kind, Sir. Won’t you come 
with me?” For he had become quite 
friendly with the Voice and used to speak- 
ing into the air at nothing, although at 
first, it had been rather a difficult matter. 

“I can go no farther,” answered the 
Voice. “I am forbidden to leave Invisi- 
bility-Court. But you will be taken care 
of. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye,” said the boy, and “bow- 
wow,” said Imp, who was a thoroughly 
well-bred dog. Then Theodore and he 
passed under the arch and into the 

DINING-ROOM 

— and — 

at once became visible again. The boy 
turned to pat Imp, which he had found 
243 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

it impossible to do when he was only a 
bark, and as for Imp, he capered about 
to show his delight at having a real boy, 
and not merely a voice, for a master. 

Just then someone said, “Come in, 
come in,” and looking up, Theodore saw, 
sitting before him, a most remarkable 
man — or was it a man? The boy was so 
frightened at his strange appearance, that 
he did n’t dare to go on. “What is it, 
Imp?” he whispered, but the dog, like his 
little master, stood staring at the amazing 
figure before them. 

It had a body, a head, and two legs, but 
there its resemblance to anything human 
ceased, for it had six arms, two in front, 
two at the back, and one at each side! 
And it had also six eyes, which were set 
in a circle all round its head, so that it 
could see in all directions! As for its 
mouth, it went completely round its head 
244 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


— one solid, continuous mouth! Theo- 
dore could n’t see its nose, for to tell the 
truth, it did n’t have any, breathing 
through some holes in the top of its head. 
There was ample room there, too, for 
breathing purposes, for the creature was 
perfectly bald; not one single solitary 
hair did he have. 

He was seated at a round table which 
had a hole cut in the middle : in this hole, 
on a little stool, he sat and seemed to be 
busily engaged in eating his dinner. 
The table was loaded with the most 
tempting food, and the creature’s six 
hands were as busy as busy could be, feed- 
ing his master’s wonderful circular mouth. 

“Are you the king here?” Theodore 
ventured to ask at last, timidly. No 
answer, and for a few minutes nothing 
was heard, save the rattling of the knives 
and forks. 


245 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Then the man turned three of his eyes 
on Theodore, and said, “I have just 
finished my eighth dinner, and now, my 
little boy, I am coming to talk with you. 
But wait a moment till I screw on my 
ear.” 

“Screw on your ear?” gasped Theodore, 
“oh, what do you mean, Sir?” 

But the Eating-Gentleman had evi- 
dently not heard him, for he paid no 
attention. He had jumped out of the 
hole, and over the table, and now stood 
before the boy. Next, taking from his 
pocket a large nickel-plated ear, with a 
screw at its back, he quickly screwed it 
into a small hole, which Theodore had 
already noticed, in one part of his fore- 
head, and then said, calmly, “I never wear 
my ear when I am eating. It’s uncom- 
fortable. But now, I am ready to talk 
246 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


with you. I see there is something which 
you want to ask.” 

“There are so many questions I want 
to ask, that I don’t know where to begin,” 
said the boy. * 

“Then begin in the middle,” suggested 
the Eating-Gentleman. “But first let me 
tell you something about myself, and the 
Dining-Room, of which I am the ruler.” 
Here he gave a low bow to Theodore, 
who politely returned it. “I am the only 
man here,” he continued, “and I have 
much to do, for I look after the garden, 
and see that the birds and dogs are fed. 
I know everything that goes on, for I 
always 'keep one eye open,’ which is, of 
course, an easy matter, as I have so many. 
Even during the night, one eye watches 
for an hour, then another, and so on, each 
taking its turn. I get up at eight in the 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


morning and go to bed at eight at night, 
and I dine every hour, making twelve 
dinners in the day, so you see what a busy 
life I lead.” 

“But,” interrupted the boy, “I should n’t 
think you would ever feel hungry.” 

“I never do, till I have had an appetite- 
nut. You have n’t seen them? Let me 
show them to you,” and the strange 
creature led Theodore, and the now thor- 
oughly frightened Imp, through a second, 
smaller arch, into a most astonishing gar- 
den. 

It too, like Invisibility Court, was 
warmed by “hot-house” flowers, which 
were all the time giving out perfumed 
heat. But beside these, there were sev- 
eral odd-looking shrubs, and to one of 
them the Eating-Gentleman went. On 
it grew some nuts, something like walnuts 
248 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


in appearance, only that on each was 
printed the word “appetite.” 

“Try one,” said the Eating-Man, and 
Theodore did so, being afraid to dis- 
obey. 

No sooner had he finished the nut, than 
he became ravenously hungry, although 
it was only two hours since he had eaten 
the big luncheon, which his mother had 
prepared. 

“I am very hungry,” he said. 

The Eating-Man laughed. “Of course 
you are, and you are to have your dinner 
here, and immediately. I will get a table 
ready. A square one will be better for 
you, as you have only two arms. You 
can get the dishes and follow,” and he 
hurried on. 

“But where am I to get the dishes? 
shouted Theodore. 


249 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Pick them,” was the answer. 

The boy looked about, completely be- 
wildered, and found that on all the bushes 
near, different kinds of dishes were grow- 
ing! One bore plates, another cups, an- 
other saucers, others knives and forks, and 
so on. The boy picked a plate from the 
plate-bush, a cup from the cup-bush, and 
with these, and a knife, fork, and spoon, 
he followed the Eating-Gentleman, who 
was standing by a table, waiting for him. 
Putting the dishes down, Theodore said, 
“I could n’t find a drinking glass.” 

“Glass department down this way, 
drinking glasses on fifth bush, right side,” 
directed the man, pointing, and Theodore 
ran and picked one. 

“Now, come with me,” said the Eating- 
Man, “and I will take you to our food- 
orchard,” and opening a gate at one side, 
he led the astonished little boy through it. 
250 








A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


“Oh, what a delicious smell,” said he, 
and indeed there ought to have been, for 
on every side was the most appetizing 
food you can imagine. Pies, cakes, 
custards, chicken, marmalade, tarts, ice- 
cream, everything you ever heard of, and 
a great many things you never heard of, 
were there, and everything was growing on 
bushes. 

“First you will want some soup,” said 
the Eating-Man. “Now, what kind do 
you prefer?” 

“I am very fond of chicken broth,” said 
Theodore. 

“Well, here is the soup-bush,” and the 
man led the way to a bush on which were 
many little faucets. On each was the 
name of some kind of soup; consomme, 
tomato, mutton, and so on. Soon they 
found the chicken, and under this Theo- 
dore held his cup. Turning the faucet, 
2yi 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

out came some delicious, rich, chicken 
broth ! 

After he had eaten this, he asked for 
some roast beef and mashed potatoes, and 
the Eating-Man took him to the roast- 
beef bush, and the mashed-potato bush, 
and he helped himself to what he wanted, 
for everything was ready, being done to 
a turn. He also passed a currant- jelly 
bush, and took from it some of the jelly. 
After he had eaten all these things, he 
picked some ice-cream from an ice-cream 
bush, that grew near, and then he let Imp 
have some meat, first giving him a crumb 
of the appetite nut, which at once made 
the little dog very hungry. 

“Now, Boy,” said the Eating-Gentle- 
man, “perhaps you would like to see my 
dogs and birds?” 

Theodore said he would like that very 
much. He had already noticed the many 
252 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 

birds flying about, singing sweetly to each 
other. 

The Eating-Man called loudly “Birds!” 
and the pretty creatures came fluttering 
down, and placed themselves in a row 
before him, “chirp-chirp, chirping” loudly. 

“Silence!” commanded the Man, and 
all stopped immediately. “Now, Boy,” 
he continued, “the birds in the world out- 
side do what you call ‘sing’ but did you 
ever hear one really sing an air, a song?” 

“Certainly not,” answered Theodore. 
“I don’t believe it would be possible for 
any bird to do that.” 

“Well, my birds can,” said the Eating- 
Man proudly. Holding out his hand, the 
first in the row, a pretty little bright red 
thing, flew to it, and perching on it, lifted 
his small head high in the air. “What do 
you see there, Boy?” said the man point- 
ing to the little creature’s soft throat. 

253 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Theodore looked and saw, almost hidden 
by the fluffy red feathers, a tiny, tiny 
handle — a crank! This the Eating-Man 
began to turn, and can you believe me 
when I tell you that the bird opened his 
mouth and actually sang “Home, Sweet 
Home” ! 

When he had finished, his master patted 
him, and told him to go to the crumb-bush, 
and take a crumb. He evidently knew 
where the crumb-bush was, for chirping 
loudly, he flew joyfully away. The next 
bird was now called, and sang “The Star 
Spangled Banner.” Then Theodore, who 
had been listening in great delight, asked 
if he might turn the crank of the third 
bird. The man gave him permission, and 
with much tenderness and feeling, the 
little fluffy yellow bird sang “Yankee 
Doodle” to him! 

When each of the birds had sung its 
254 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


song, Theodore thanked the Eating-Man, 
and told him it was the most beautiful and 
the most wonderful concert he had ever 
heard. 

The man seemed pleased at this praise, 
and said, “I suppose it does seem wonder- 
ful to you, and so, I daresay, will the 
dogs.” 

“Oh, let me see the dogs,” begged the 
boy, and Imp who had been evidently 
thoroughly disgusted by the unnatural 
birds, pricked up his ears, and wagged his 
tail at the word “dog.” “At last,” he 
thought, “we shall see something sensible, 
but as for those hand-organ birds, I don’t 
like them at all. No-no! Bow-wow!” 

“I will call only one of the dogs,” said 
the Eating-Man. “I have ten, but they 
are all alike.” He then gave a loud 
whistle, saying at the same time “walk.” 
In a moment, a strange, whirring noise 

255 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


was heard, something came dashing down 
one of the paths, and an animal stood be- 
fore them. Poor Imp gave one look at 
him, moaned, and fell to the ground. 

The creature had, like other dogs, a 
body, head and tail, but he had only one 
leg , on which he stood on a broad, wooden 
platform — (just like a toy dog, only even 
they have four legs). He had a remark- 
able nose, which looked like the trunk of 
an elephant, and which he could move 
about freely in any direction. He looked 
up at them, but made no sound, and 
did n’t move. 

“Glad to see me, Tim?” asked his 
master; “you may wag your tail,” and 
then Theodore started back in surprise, 
and like Imp, almost fainted, for the dog 
turned his head round, and with his trunk 
pushed away the long, brown hair, dis- 
closing at one side of his body what looked 
256 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 

like an electric bell-button. This he 
pressed, and immediately his tail began 
to wag stiffly back and forth, back and 
forth, back and forth, five times — then 
stopped abruptly. 

“You are awfully glad to see me, are n’t 
you*?” said his master, “then you can bark, 
too.” Round went the dog’s trunk-nose 
to the other side of his body. Theodore, 
who wanted to see what would happen 
now, hurried round, too, and saw him push 
aside the hair, as before, showing another 
button. This the dog pressed, and im- 
mediately began to bark! But he did n’t 
do it as dogs usually do — he could n’t, 
you see, for he was made in such an en- 
tirely different way. He barked a scale ! 
Beginning at the lowest, he barked his way 
up the eight notes. 

“Now, show our guest how you lie 
down, Tim,” commanded his master, and 

257 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


the dog immediately rolled over and lay 
on his back, his one leg straight up in the 
air, supporting the platform. “The plat- 
form is very convenient when it rains,” 
said the man, “it serves as an umbrella, 
you see, and as there is no house or other 
shelter here, it is an excellent thing.” 

“And what do you do yourself, Sir, 
when it rains?” asked Theodore. 

“Just run into Invisibility-Court, till 
the storm is over,” was the answer. 

Theodore again turned to the dog, who 
stood patiently waiting before them. 
“How does he manage to walk?” he 
asked. 

“There are wheels on the platform,” 
explained the man, “and I will show you 
how he moves, for it is now time anyway 
for him to leave. Good fellow,” he said, 
turning to the dog, “you may go to the 
bone-bush and get a bone. Walk.” 

258 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 

At that word, Tim lifted his trunk and 
once more pressed a knob. This time it 
was on his forehead, and the minute it 
was pressed, off he rolled with a loud, 
whirring noise ! Aroused by it, poor Imp 
came to himself again and gazed about, 
with a pitiful, scared look. He was 
greatly relieved to find the dog gone, for 
seeing him had been one of the dreadful 
experiences of Imp’s life. 

Theodore lifted the poor little shivering 
creature, and carried him the rest of the 
way. 

The Eating-Man explained that the 
dogs never pressed any of the knobs, un- 
less he gave the words of command. “Oc- 
casionally a puppy will forget, but as a 
general thing they are well trained,” he 
said. “I cannot allow them to be running 
about where there are so many food- 
bushes, you know.” By this time they 
259 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


had reached again the Dining-Room arch. 

“Now, Theodore, say good-bye quick- 
ly,” said the Eating-Man, “for in just one 
minute I begin my ninth meal and must 
take off my ear.” 

So the boy thanked him very much for 
his kindness, and asked if he might kiss 
him good-bye. 

“Why certainly,” said the Eating- 
Gentleman, evidently pleased at the re- 
quest. . 

And then the little boy drew back in 
embarrassment, for he did n’t know which 
part of the mouth he ought to kiss first. 
If he took the part toward him, then the 
rest of it might feel grieved. 

“I don’t quite know, Sir, where I ought 
to begin to kiss,” he faltered. 

“Regin in the middle,” answered the 
Eating-Gentleman, “and I ’ll do the rest.” 

Poor Theodore did n’t know where the 
260 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


middle was, but he did n’t like to say so, 
so he kissed the part of the mouth that was 
toward him. No sooner had his lips 
touched it, than the Eating-Gentleman, 
balancing on one foot, twirled himself so 
rapidly about that the whole mouth was 
kissed! Not a bit of it was left out. 

Then unscrewing his ear, which he put 
in his pocket, he hurried to the dish- 
bushes, eating on the way an appetite-nut. 
Picking what dishes he needed, he put 
them on the table. Next running nimbly 
to the food-orchard, he picked his dinner, 
which as he used all his hands, he did in 
an incredibly short time. Then jumping 
over the table, he seated himself on the 
stool, and the last Theodore saw of him, 
he was eating a big cake, which was baked 
with a hole in the middle. Through this 
hole he had thrust his head, and with his 
six hands holding the cake firmly, was 
261 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

busily eating his way outward, on all 
sides, at once ! 

When Theodore passed under the arch, 
he saw directly before him another one 
marked “SLUMBER-ROOM,” and the 
poor boy was really glad to see it, for he 
felt so exhausted by all the wonderful 
things he had seen that he was only too 
ready for a nap. So going under the arch, 
he entered the 

3d Garden. 

“Sssh, ssssh, sssssh,” greeted him from 
all sides. Who was speaking? Theodore 
looked about but saw no one. 

This garden was smaller than the others, 
and was densely shaded by trees. These 
trees were swaying back and forth, back 
and forth, and in a moment the boy dis- 
covered that it was from them the sound 
came. Except for this gentle murmur 
“ssssh, ssssh; ssssh, ssssh,” no sound was to 
262 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 

be heard. There seemed to be no birds 
and no dogs here, and apparently no per- 
son but himself. 

Suddenly he caught sight of a notice, 
nailed against one of the trees, and going 
to it, read: 

Pillows at right, on 14th tree from en- 
trance. 

MAKE NO NOISE. 

“Ssssh, sssh, sssh,” murmured the trees. 

Walking with the greatest care, Theo- 
dore counted till he came to the 14th tree 
on the right, and sure enough, there stood 
the pillow tree, and a pretty sight it was, 
for it was almost buried under the many 
pretty pink and white pillows it bore. 
Choosing a particularly luscious, soft-look- 
ing one, he picked it and placed it on the 
ground. Then with Imp curled up under 
263 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 
his arm, he stretched himself out on the 
soft grass. 

This garden, like the others, was warm, 
for there was a stiff row of hot-house 
flowers planted around it, which gave out 
ample heat for a sleeping room. 

“Ssssh, sssh, sssh,” murmured the trees, 
then “sssh, sssh,” softer and softer it 
sounded to the sleepy boy, and at last his 
eyes closed — Theodore was asleep. 

He slept for about an hour, when he 
thought he heard someone call “Wake 
up.” Sitting up quickly, he looked about, 
and saw no one. But directly before him, 
hanging from a tree, was a big sign, which 
had certainly not been there before, and 
on which were printed the words he had 
just heard, “Wake up.” 

While he was looking at it, the sign be- 
gan to gradually fade away, and before 
Theodore had quite made up his mind 
264 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


as to whether it had really been there or 
not, it had disappeared. But it had done 
its work, for the boy was now wide awake. 
Jumping up, he walked toward the en- 
trance, with little Imp clasped tightly in 
his arms. 

Not a sound was to be heard except the 
“ssssshing” of the trees and the boy’s foot- 
steps, which echoed through the lonely 
garden. Theodore was glad when they 
reached a door, and passed through it. As 
for poor Imp, he gave a bark of delight. 
His master stooped to kiss him, when, to 
his horror, he found that the dog was n’t 
in his arms at all — had disappeared ! 

Another look, however, showed him that 
he himself was missing, and then he knew 
that they must be once more in Invisibil- 
ity-Court. 

This he found was so, for just then his 
old friend, the Voice, spoke to him, “Well 
265 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

boy, here you are again; and have you had 
a pleasant afternoon?” 

“Oh, Voice,” said Theodore. “I have 
seen so many wonderful things. I never 
knew before that there were so many won- 
derful things in the world.” 

“There are not, in the real world,” was 
the answer. “And do you know, Theo- 
dore, the reason why you were allowed 
to come here to ours?” 

“No,” said he, “why was it?” 

“Because this is the 29th of February, 
your birthday. You are a leap-year boy, 
you know, and that is the only kind of 
boy we admit here.” 

“And may I come again?” asked Theo- 
dore, anxiously. 

“Come on your next birthday, in four 
years from now, in the afternoon,” an- 
swered the Voice, “and perhaps we will 
let you in. But, Theodore, when you go 
266 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


out, be very careful to shut and lock the 
tree-door. You may take the key, but 
don t lose it. And now, little boy, good- 
bye.” 

“But, Voice,” said the boy, “after we 
get out into the world, how are we to be- 
come big again, Imp and I?” 

“Plunge into the brook, and you will 
both be yourselves,” said the Voice, but 
Theodore noticed that it had a faint 
sound, as if it came from a distance. 
“Don t lose the key” it repeated again, 
softly, “and good-bye,” but the last was 
almost a whisper. 

“Good-bye, dear Voice,” said Theodore, 
“you won’t forget me, will you?” There 
was no answer to this; the Voice had gone. 

Giving one long, lingering look at the 
beautiful garden, the boy opened the little 
door, and he and Imp went out into the 
outside world. Ugh! how cold and dark 
267 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

it seemed! He shivered in his handker- 
chief-napkin suit. Shutting the tree-door, 
he locked it and put the key in the pocket 
of his jacket which lay on the ground. 

Then, running to the brook, he first 
threw in Imp, who struggled and did n’t 
seem to relish the idea of a cold bath. 
Next, he plunged in himself, and as the 
Voice had said, in a few moments he and 
Imp were themselves again. 

Then, putting on his clothes and pick- 
ing up his fishing-rod and his empty lunch- 
basket, he whistled to Imp and went home. 
Putting the key into a tin bait-box, he 
buried it in a corner of the garden, think- 
ing that would be the safest place for it, 
for he remembered the warning which the 
friendly Voice had given, “Don’t lose the 
key!” 

Four years passed, and Theodore’s 
birthday, to which he had been looking 
268 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


forward for so long, had come again. He 
had been many times to the tree, but never 
had seen anything about it to show that 
it was unlike others. 

This morning he spent in impatiently 
waiting for the afternoon to come. The 
little key had been dug up, and was rest- 
ing safely in his pocket. 

After luncheon he started for the woods, 
his heart beating quickly with excitement. 
Imp was with him, as before, but he was 
not the dog he had been. This was a dig- 
nified, stately Imp, who never barked, un- 
less he felt that there was really some occa- 
sion for it. When they came near the tree, 
Theodore took the key from his pocket, 
holding it ready in his hand, and fairly 
ran in his impatience, while Imp trotted in 
a leisurely manner after. But, just as 
the tree was almost in sight, poor Theo- 
dore’s foot caught in the root of a tree, 
269 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

and he fell heavily, at full length on the 
ground. He was not hurt in the least, 
but, alas! alas! in falling with such force, 
the little silver key in his hand was hurled 
from him, disappearing in the dense shrub- 
bery! 

Poor Theodore searched, and searched, 
and searched but in vain. He at last had 
to give it up, and sitting down buried his 
face in his hands, and big boy that he was, 
cried aloud, for he was bitterly disap- 
pointed. Imp moaned sympathetically 
and licked his master’s hands. 

Just then a tremendous crash shook the 
earth! The boy started to his feet. It 
sounded as if a big tree had been blown 
down quite near. But that could n’t be, 
for there was n’t wind enough to blow it 
down. The day was hot — breathless — 
scarcely a leaf stirred on any of the trees 
near. 

270 


A LEAP-YEAR BOY 


Wondering what the noise could have 
been, Theodore hurried in the direction 
whence the sound had come, and there on 
the ground, with its branches stretching 
out on all sides, and its roots reaching far 
up into the air, lay the beautiful fairy- 
tree ! ! With a cry Theodore reached it 
and running to the place where the little 
door had been, examined it carefully; but 
no trace of it was to be seen. Next, he 
looked into the big hole, where the roots 
had so recently been, but there was noth- 
ing there but a hole. 

Invisibility-Court and the Voice, the 
Dining-Room, and the polite Eating-Gen- 
tleman, and the Slumber-Room with its 
“sssh, sssshing” trees were gone. Only as 
Theodore stooped over the hole, he no- 
ticed that a faint and very delicious odor 
cam e from it, which, he recognized as the 
same that had come from the “hot-house” 
271 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


flowers, but as he stood, even this grew 
less and less, till at last it disappeared en- 
tirely. 


272 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 








A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


T HE Golden-Rooster Weather-vane 
had stood for many years, proudly 
erect, upon the cupola of Farmer Mer- 
ritt’s barn. As he had been placed high 
in life, he was obliged to look down upon 
people, but at heart he was really very 
kind and gentle. 

His only masters were the Winds. As 
they commanded, he faced this way or 
that, and sometimes, they led him a pretty 
dance, t'oo. 

“You Winds have no mercy on a poor 
Weather-vane,” he would complain. 

At that, the North-wind would laugh 
boisterously: “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Some- 
times the Winds would quarrel among 
themselves, each insisting that it was his 
turn, to blow. 


275 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


The North-wind would roar angrily: 
“Whooooooo!!!” and round the Vane 
would fly, in one direction ! 

Then the West- wind would call, 
“OoooooK!” and round he would turn, in 
another! 

Next the hateful East-wind would jerk 
him spitefully back again: “Wheeeee!” 
(The East- wind always spoke in a sharp, 
cutting manner.) 

Even the gentle South-wind would 
occasionally insist on having things her 
way. 

When the poor Weather-vane was al- 
most exhausted, from trying in vain, to 
turn four different ways, at the same mo- 
ment, he would put his foot down firmly, 
and refuse to move at all, until the quar- 
rel of the winds, had blown over ! 

Those were trials of course, but there 
were many good days too, and on the 
276 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


whole, the Weather-vane led a happy life 
until — he met the Shanghai-rooster ! One 
beautiful afternoon in June, the Vane 
was standing quietly on his high perch. 
There was no wind, and with nothing 
especial to do, he was taking a wee nap. 
Suddenly, he was aroused by hearing an 
unusual noise on the roof below, an odd 
scraping and scratching! Then a small 
brown-feathered head appeared, followed 
by a feathered body. It was a Rooster — 
and none other than His Majesty, Shang 
Hai, King of the barnyard below! 

“How d’ yer, how d’ yer dooo!” he 
screamed. 

The Vane being pleased at the visit, 
answered politely, “Thank you, Sir, I am 
very well.” 

But the Shanghai, after the first greet- 
ing (which all Roosters are obliged to 
make) had no idea of being polite; in fact 
277 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


he had come up there for the very purpose 
of being rude! He had discovered re- 
cently, that his Barnyard Family had a 
great admiration for the glittering golden 
Weather-vane. He did not like this, of 
course, as he was of a jealous disposition, 
and finally, after thinking matters over, 
made up his mind to attack his rival. 

This was a cowardly thing to do, for the 
poor Golden Rooster was nailed to the 
pole, and unable to defend himself. 

The Shanghai was too angry to think 
of this, however, so he seated himself on 
the roof, and began to call up insulting 
things ! 

“You green-eyed, wooden chump,” he 
sneered finally. “Why don’t you come 
off your perch, and enjoy life — its muddy 
streets, its slimy water-puddles, its lus- 
cious worms? Ugh! Cadoodle Ugh!” 

Now in Rooster-land, it is considered 
278 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


a deadly insult to say “Ugh! Cadoodle 
Ugh!” Even the Vane knew this fact, 
and glared down angrily at the Shang- 
hai. 

“This is hard to bear. I wish I could 
turn my back to him,” he said to himself, 
sadly. 

At that moment, a soft voice whispered 
in his ear: “You shall do so,” and the 
friendly South-wind blew him gently 
round in the direction he wished! 

“Here! Here! Face me!” screamed 
the Shanghai, angrily, “Don’t turn your 
back, while I am speaking. I am the King 
of the Barnyard — you are my subject!” 

“I am not your subject,” objected the 
Weather-vane, with spirit. “Indeed, I 
am higher in rank than you — you have to 
look up to me.” 

“Look up to nothing !” screamed the 
Rooster, in a rage. “I ’m coming now to 
279 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

tear out your goggly eyes / 5 and he gave 
a great angry jump! At that moment, 
an unexpected thing happened, for the 
North- wind sprang up! 

“Ho! Ho ! 55 he roared, “my friend the 
South- wind, has just whispered to me, 
that someone was insulting our faithful 
Weather-vane. Where is that somebody? 
A-a-a-a-ah, I see him now! Whoooooooo 
are you, Sir? Off with you — ooooooooh ! 55 

No sooner had he roared these awful 
things, than the Rooster was “off 55 indeed, 
for the fierce wind had b-l-o-w-n him 
from the roof! Screaming with terror, 
the poor thing half fluttered, half fell 
to the ground below, where he lay for a 
moment stunned, surrounded by his large 
family. 

Farmer Merritt, who happened to be 
crossing the yard, came to see what the 
matter was. 

280 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


“Wal, I swan!” he said, “We ’ll have to 
shut you up now I s’pose, and take care 
of you. But I should think, Shanghai, 
that you was old enough by this time, not 
to try to climb roofs !” 

Several days passed, but although he 
had been victorious, the Weather-vane 
was unhappy in mind. You see he had 
been thinking over, what the Barnyard 
Rooster had said to him of the pleasant 
life one could lead in the outside world, 
and it had made him discontented with his 
present lot. From this time on, he grum- 
bled and grieved, his only wish being that 
he were like other Roosters, alive and ac- 
tive. One day, a kindly little chimney- 
swallow, touched by his sad face, asked 
what the matter was. 

“Oh, I am very unhappy. I want to 
walk about and lead the free life that 
others do,” he moaned. 

281 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


The little bird perched herself com- 
fortably on the roof, and looked at the 
Rooster, her small head on one side, her 
bright eyes twinkling. 

“I think you make a mistake, in wishing 
to be alive,” she said, “but as you really 
want it so much, — I will tell you a secret. 
In the garden, in front of this house, 
stands a small tree, called the arbor-vitse, 
which means ‘tree of life’.” 

“How did you know that?” asked the 
Weather-vane, admiringly. 

“My mother’s step-brother-in-law was a 
Reed-bird, and people who read , know 
everything,” said the little swallow, 
proudly. “But listen, Rooster; my idea 
is, that I will bring you a bit of this won- 
derful tree. You can eat it, and if it is 
really what they say it is — a ‘tree-of-life,’ 
then it ought to have the power to give 
you life” 


282 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


“This is indeed worth trying,” shouted 
the Golden Rooster, enthusiastically. 
“Dear kind little friend, please get me a 
bit of the tree, at once!” 

Off flew the bird, soon returning with 
the green twig. And then (though with 
difficulty, as his mouth was not properly 
made for eating), she managed to force 
some of the green, down the Rooster’s 
throat. 

“Well, that was a pretty hard job,” she 
gasped quite out of breath. “I am not 
used to this sort of thing,” she added, “for 
all my own children are made with very 
wide-open mouths.” 

The two now waited anxiously, to see 
if anything would happen. It was the 
bird who first detected signs of life — a 
tiny fluttering, an uncertain quivering of 
the gold feathers round the Rooster’s 
neck! 


283 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

“Cheep! Cheep!” she whispered, in 
great excitement. “I believe everything 
is coming out all right.” Yes, there was 
soon no doubt about it, for a trembling 
and quivering, which grew gradually 
greater, could now be distinctly seen. 
Then at last with a proud stately motion, 
up rose the Rooster’s beautiful tail, next 
he slowly lifted one leg — and then the 
other. Now his head was held proudly 
erect, and then — this creature, who but 
a moment before, had been wooden and 
without life or motion, had become 
splendidly alive, a “really truly” Roost- 
er! 

The little Rird, trembling with excite- 
ment, stood there, first on one leg, then on 
the other, watching the whole wonderful 
change, and feeling almost frightened, at 
what she had done. 

Proudly, with a pleasant sense of power 
284 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


and command, the new Rooster gazed 
about. 

“Well, how d’ yer — how d’ yer doooT 
he then said, and considering that he had 
never made this remark before, he cer- 
tainly spoke distinctly and well! 

“Wonderful! you are all right, now,” 
chirped the Swallow, “and I hope you will 
enjoy being alive, Sir!” 

Then, without waiting to be thanked, 
off she hurried to her hungry family. 

The Golden Rooster flapped his wings 
joyously, the gold paint falling from him 
in glittering showers. “Oh, how d’ yer, 
how d J yer dooo ,” he yelled louder than 
before. There was no one there to say 
this thing to, but he felt that he must re- 
peat it over and over, and did so. 

“Now, I go down to the world!” he 
cried, and bidding good-bye to the pole, 
which had been his happy home for so 
285 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


many months, he slipped — fluttering and 
flying — down from his high perch on the 
cupola, and tumbled with a clumsy 
flopperty-flop, to the main roof below! 
From there, down the sloping side to the 
ground, was an easy trip, and at last the 
Golden Rooster found himself in the 
barnyard, happy and excited! 

Rut alas, much of his glittering plum- 
age had gone from him during the journey 
down, so that he now had quite a common, 
every-day look. 

“Well, how d’ yer, how d’ yer dooooo?” 
he saluted, bowing politely to the hens, 
who, at sight of the gold-brown feathered 
stranger, had fluttered off nervously, and 
now stood huddled together in one corner 
of the yard, whispering to each other. 

Finding him so polite, they ventured a 
little nearer. 

“Good luck ! Good luck — luck — luck,” 
286 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 

said they, and one who was a little braver 
than the others added, “And — who are 
you*?” 

“I am — I was, the Golden Rooster, 
from above,” said the Weather-vane, “I 
lived on the cupola, you know, but I have 
eaten of the arbor vitse, the life-tree, and 
so am able to come down to you, which I 
have always longed to do, ladies. Now, 
‘how d’ yer, how d’ yer dooooo !’ ” he 
crowed, gaily. 

The hens were pleased, and simpered 
sweetly at him. It is n’t every hen who 
can simper, by the way, but these were 
very clever ones. Finally, one of them 
said doubtingly, “Sisters, I do not quite 
believe what this gentleman says. He 
can not be our Gold-Rooster, the twirling 
twisting, non-resisting, glittering gleam- 
ing Rooster, to whom we have all looked 
up, and whom we loved!” 

287 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Our sister speaks the truth,” said a 
second hen, “This creature can not be our 
Golden Beauty. So let us pluck-luck- 
luck him to bits.” To this, all the other 
hens agreed. 

“But ladies,” he pleaded, “one moment, 
please. I really am the Golden Rooster 
of whom you speak so kindly, but you see 
— unfortunately, — on my way down, I 
lost much of my golden plumage. I speak 
the truth. Look up at my old home, and 
see for yourselves — there is no rooster 
there.” 

The hens looked, and when they saw 
the empty pole above, were convinced 
that he had spoken the truth, after all! 
They gradually came a little nearer, to 
examine the stranger’s plumage. 

Suddenly, all were startled by a loud 
angry cry, behind them. 

It was Shang-hai, the King. Clucking 
288 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


loudly, in an agony of fear, the hens 
scurried to the other end of the yard. 

The Shanghai, since his visit to his rival, 
had been shut up in the hen-house, you re- 
member, his poor injured feet, bandaged. 
This hot afternoon, he had been taking 
a quiet nap, and so had known nothing of 
the Golden Rooster’s coming till, roused 
by the loud clucking of his family, he had 
looked out, to see what the matter was. 

Madness and despair! There — on the 
ground, in his barnyard, he beheld a 
strange brown-clad Rooster, strutting 
about in a disgusting fashion, while he 
was shut up in prison, unable to protect 
his family! He dashed himself against 
the bars, in a frantic effort to be free. And 
if he had had teeth, he would have gnashed 
’em. 

The Golden Rooster, meanwhile, find- 
ing that the Shanghai was in prison, and 
289 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


that the hens, instead of plucking out his 
eyes, had become friendly, began to feel 
very glad and happy, flapped his wings in 
triumph, and crowed lustily, twice. As 
he raised his wings, the imprisoned King 
caught sight of the gold beneath, and be- 
came so furiously angry, that he almost 
burstl 

“My spurs, ’t is he ! ’T is my enemy 
the Golden Rooster!” he screamed. 
“He ’s got himself alive, and has come 
down! Put him out, my hens! If you 
don’t — ” But the poor hens, knowing the 
awful temper of their King, did n’t wait 
to hear what he would do, if they refused 
to obey, but rushing at the strange Rooster 
shooed him from the yard, scaring him al- 
most out of his fresh senses! Down the 
distant road he hurried, looking neither to 
the right nor left. On he fled, till at last, 
venturing to glance about, he found no 
290 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


house in sight. Then, crouching down 
under a bush by the roadside, he thought 
matters over. Clearly, his place was not 
in the Merritt barnyard — no one wanted 
him there! 

‘I thought they would be glad to wel- 
come me, — a Golden Rooster,” he sighed, 
“although, to be sure, there is but little 
gold left on me, now,” and he looked re- 
gretfully, at his small brown body. “I 
will live here, in these beautiful woods,” 
he declared at last, and so saying, he went 
on, till he found himself in a dense forest. 
Before long, he met a red Squirrel, carry- 
ing a nut. She stopped and gazed at him, 
in astonishment. 

“Are you a new kind of partridge ?” she 
enquired anxiously. 

“Oh no,” said he, “I am a Rooster.” 

“Mercy!” cried the Squirrel, darting 
away nervously, “Then why are you here? 
291 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Only wild people live here, and we don’t 
want you. Go back to your own barn- 
yard, where you belong.” 

“Oh, but I have n’t any barnyard and I 
don’t belong there.” Here the Rooster 
began to sob! It ’s a sad thing to hear a 
rooster sob, and the kind little Squirrel 
was much upset. 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” 
she said, sympathetically. 

“Well, you see, Squirrel,” explained 
the Rooster, when he could speak at all, 
“I am not a common person. I used to be 
a Weather-vane — but I am now alive. I 
am a Golden Rooster.” 

“See here, I have heard of ‘Golden 
Pheasants,’ but not Roosters, and I never 
saw a weather-vane that could walk,” and 
putting her little head on one side, the 
Squirrel looked suspiciously, at him. 

“I am — or at least, I was one, really,” 
292 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


said the Rooster. “See,” and lifting his 
brown wing, he showed the shining gold 
feathers, beneath! 

The Squirrel was interested, and at her 
request, he told his story. 

Of his peaceful life as a Weather-vane 
on Farmer Merritt’s barn, of the visit of 
Shanghai, then of his own wish to become 
alive, and to enjoy life as others did. 
How the wish had come true at last, and 
of how unkindly he had been treated. 

“Poor thing, you certainly have had a 
hard time,” said the Squirrel sympathetic- 
ally, “Take a nut? Do!” 

The Rooster took the nut most grate- 
fully. Of course, he did n’t know that his 
people did not eat nuts, so he gobbled it, 
and it tasted good to him. Then his little 
friend advised him to go to some farm- 
house, and try to find a home. 

“You would not be comfortable here 

293 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


in the wood,” she added, “I know you 
would not like our wild roving life.” 

The Rooster thanked her, and followed 
her advice. 

Going back to the main-road, he walked 
along until he came to a comfortable-look- 
ing farm-yard. But there he met a mon- 
strous white Rooster, who at his very first 
greeting, said horrid things, and chased 
him a long way down the road! It was 
now grown dark, and he made up his mind 
to try no more places, until next day. 
That night, he spent under an oak-tree in 
a big field, and in the morning started 
again his search for a home. Already he 
was beginning to be sorry that he was 
alive. 

“I was put up on that cupola to be a 
Weather-vane,” he thought to himself. 
“I was a good one, too, and I ought to have 
been contented there, doing my duty. I 
294 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 

declare I wish — I wish — I were back 
again.” 

That day he tried three barnyards, but 
always with the same result. And once, 
a naughty boy threw a stone at him. 
He had never known before what unkind- 
ness was; he was frightened and raced for 
his life down the road! 

The second night he spent also in the 
woods, starting out on his travels the next 
day. Soon he reached a village, which 
he entered cautiously, walking slowly. 
There were no people about ; the place was 
deserted except for a big yellow dog, who 
lay in the exact middle of the road and 
blinked lazily at the Rooster. It was 
Sunday, and quiet was over all. Soon 
sweet sounds were heard coming from a 
large white building, whose tails grace- 
ful spire reached up and up. 

The Rooster stopped to listen. He was 
295 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


very fond of music, although he had never 
known it before. He heard first, the slow 
solemn strains of an organ, and the sound 
of many voices singing. This he liked, 
and he crossed the street to hear better. 
The large doors were wide open on this 
hot day — to enter was easy. At one side 
was the notice, “ALL ARE WEL- 
COME.” “ ‘All are welcome , 5 55 thought 
the poor little Rooster, “then here, at 
last, is the place for me,” so he entered 
quickly, and walked fearlessly up the 
broad aisle. The music had stopped and 
all the people, beautifully dressed, were 
listening to someone, who was speaking. 
The Rooster drew himself up proudly 
and looking about, said politely, “How 
d 5 yer, how d 5 yer dooooo /” At this greet- 
ing, the young people in the church, began 
to laugh softly, then a big fat man came 
running quickly down the aisle, and the 
296 



No Rest for Him, Even Here! 
















, I • HB 






















































A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


Rooster heard a too familiar sound, 
“ Shoo! Shoo!” Alas, then there was to 
be no rest for him, even here! Quickly 
he turned and ran back through the door 
and across the street! Finding that no 
one was following, he stopped and looked 
back sadly, at the church. 

“Then it does n’t mean that all are wel- 
come,” he thought bitterly, “I suppose I 
was too poor and dusty to enter there — 
I noticed that they were dressed in their 
fine feathers. Now, if I had worn my 
beautiful golden plumage, I am sure they 
would have let me in. But that notice, 
‘All are welcome’ ought not be there.” 

Before long, the services were over, and 
the people began to leave the church. 
The Rooster ran down the street in ter- 
ror, fearing that he should again be 
chased. That night also, he spent in the 
woods, but in the morning, his friend the 
297 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Squirrel came to him. “I have something 
sad to tell you,” she said. “You can not 
stay here, any longer. The Feather and 
Fur Tribes Union had a big meeting last 
night, and all have decided that no 
Rooster, (golden — or otherwise) is to re- 
main here, to eat up other people’s-chil- 
dren’s-worm-or-nuts. I asked them to let 
me be the one to tell you this, for I knew 
that I should do it in a kind way. Have 
a nut — do!” 

The Golden Rooster took the nut, and 
thanking the Squirrel for her sympathy, 
munched it sadly. 

“What shall I do now, Squirrel?” he 
wailed, “Can you advise me? How I 
wish I were again on Farmer Merritt’s 
barn, a simple, contented Weather-vane!” 

“Why not go back and ask the wise 
Chimney-swallow (whose mother’s step- 
brother-in-law, was a Reed-bird) , if there 
298 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


is n’t some way, in which you can again 
become as you were?” 

“That is good advice, and I will follow 
it,” said the Rooster, looking gratefully 
at his little friend. 

“And if you keep your eyes open, it is 
possible, of course,” she continued, “that 
you may find a good home for yourself on 
your way back.” 

After bidding her good-bye, the Rooster 
walked toward the village, through which 
he had to pass, to reach his old home. Al- 
though the hour was early yet, the post- 
office was open, and farther down the 
street, a boy had just unlocked the door of 
the butcher’s shop. The Rooster ap- 
proached cautiously — no one was in sight. 
A big sign hung on a hitching-post, in 
front of the shop. Wondering what it 
was, the little Creature walked up to it 
and read: 


299 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


FOWLS WAN LED LO-DAT. 

This notice was meant for a man who 
sold fowls, and who passed every morn- 
ing, on his way to the big market, be- 
yond. The Rooster did n’t know this of 
course, but he read the words several 
times, “Fowls wanted to-day.” 

“Well, well, I am a fowl, so here, at 
last, is the very place for me,” he re- 
marked happily. “They want fowls, and 
not only that, but they want them so 
badly, that they ask for them! They will 
be glad to see me. I will let them know 
I am here,” so strutting to the open door, 
he began his polite “How d’ yer do — die 
doooo?” 

Scarcely had those words been spoken, 
than he caught sight of something within 
the shop, which made his little heart al- 
most stop beating! One look he gave, 
300 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


and then — with the swiftness of terror, he 
ran! ran! ran! down the quiet steeet, 
croaking hoarsely as he went! 

When he had come to the wooded road 
beyond the village, he stopped for a mo- 
ment, and thought tremblingly of the 
fearful thing he had looked upon! For 
— through the window of the butcher’ s- 
shop he had seen with his own eyes — 
hanging from big brass hooks, row upon 
row of the poor stiffened bodies of his own 
people! 

Big chickens, little chickens, fat ones, 
thin ones, all kinds of ones were there! 
To the frightened Rooster, there seemed 
to be perfect thousands! None of them 
had a single feather to their backs — but 
were neatly plucked of everyone they had 
ever owned — well it was a dreadful sight, 
truly! 

“Now, I know why they wanted fowls,” 
301 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

gasped the Golden Rooster as he ran on 
to get away still farther, from the awful 
place. 

He was nearing his old home. Another 
turn, and there he saw the familiar white 
house; in the background, the barn with 
the rounded cupola above. The Rooster 
looked sadly at his former perch — the 
poor empty pole. 

“Oh, how I wish,” said he, “that I were 
up there now; with all my heart I wish 
it.” 

Carefully, he approached the high board 
fence that enclosed the barnyard. “I am 
afraid,” said he weakly, “that Shanghai is 
there, and I really do not feel able to meet 
him now.” For the Rooster was no longer 
the fine, spirited little fellow, who had 
left the farm so short a time before. 
With his glittering plumage, his courage 
had left him, too. 


302 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


“I will remain here,” he said to himself, 
“hoping that my friend, Mrs. Swallow, 
may chance to come this way.” 

Luck was with the little chap at last, 
for half an hour had not passed, when a 
soft “whirring” of wings was heard, and 
wee Mrs. Swallow herself alighted by his 
side, capturing on the way a deliciously 
fat worm. 

“You? What does this mean?” she 
asked in surprise, “Why are you here?” 

“It means,” said the Rooster, sadly, 
“that I don’t want to be alive any more. 
I wish to be a Weather-vane again. Then 
I was doing my duty, and was of some 
use, but down here no one wants me. I 
am very unhappy, and I have come back 
to ask if you can think of any possible 
way, in which I can turn myself into a 
Golden-Rooster-Weather-vane again?” 

The words were scarcely out of his 
303 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


mouth, when, how it happened, the little 
fellow never knew, but he suddenly began 
to whirl round and round and rounder, 
faster and faster and then faster! What 
could it mean? Where was he? Then 
he heard voices — voices he knew! 

“Whoooooo! roared one, “it’s my turn 
now!” 

“ Oooooooh !” squealed another, “it is 
not — ’t is mine !” 

“Aaaaaaah!” interrupted a gentler one, 
and then — the Rooster coming more fully 
to himself, realized that he was listening 
to the familiar voices of his old friends, — 
the Winds! He put his foot down, 
stopped whirling for a moment, opened 
his eyes, and looked about. It was indeed 
true; in some strange mysterious way, his 
wish had been granted, for he found him- 
self standing on the top of the cupola, a 
weather vane once more, his rich gold 
304 


A DISCONTENTED ROOSTER 


plumage glittering as brightly as ever in 
the warm sun ! ! 

“Wal, I swan!” said Farmer Merritt, 
who passed through the yard at that mo- 
ment, with the milk-pails, “I guess I got 
the best weather-vane goin’. Always 
right, and never gits out o’ order!” 


305 



THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 



THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


O NCE upon a time, a little girl named 
Eleanor, who was just your age, 
went out into the country, for a walk. 
Before she had been very far, she came 
to a big rock at the roadside, and on it, 



busily whittling, sat an odd-looking 
brown-clad man. He was very small and 


3°9 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


very wrinkled, and his piercing black 
eyes twinkled and snapped so viciously, 
that Eleanor was almost afraid. 

“How do you do, Sir?” she said po- 
litely, as she passed. “I do very well,” 
snapped the little man, “that is, when 
people don’t talk to me.” 

Eleanor decided that he was a very un- 
pleasant person, so she said no more, but 
walked quickly on. At this, the wee man 
gave a hateful laugh, and cried: 

“Yah, silly goose! I frightened you, 
did n’t I?” 

“Nonsense! I am not afraid!” cried 
Eleanor indignantly, “but I am hurrying 
to get away from you — because you are 
rude.” 

“Oho!” he taunted, “I rude? Well, I 
like that. As a matter of fact, I am really 
the politest man on this rock, and every- 
body admires me, very much.” 

310 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


Here the little fellow grimaced fright- 
fully, and he looked so ridiculous, that 
Eleanor burst out laughing ! 

At this, he glared at her silently for a 
moment, shivering with rage. 

“Go home!” he screamed at last, “and 
when you get there, stay. Monkey! 
Grasshopper! Toad!” 

But this impertinence was more than 
Eleanor could bear, and walking straight 
up to the man, she shook her fist in his 
face and said indignantly, “Don’t talk to 
me like that — I won’t allow it. If you ’re 
not careful I ’ll — I ’ll — box your ears!” 

“Oho! you’ll ‘box’ my ears, will you?” 
squealed the wee man. “If you try to do 
that, young lady, you’ll get your own 
ears ‘boxed’! Yes you will, and ‘ boxed ’ 
in a way you 7/ not like!” 

But, while he talked in this dreadful 
manner, he looked so absurdly small, that 
3ll 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Eleanor was ashamed to quarrel with him, 
and again began to laugh. No sooner 
had she done so, however, than c-r-a-c-k! 
something hard struck her on one ear, and 
then c-r-a-c-k l came the same thing, on the 
other! Stunned at first, by the blow, 
and not knowing what had happened, the 
poor child stood there trembling. She 
felt strangely dizzy, too, and sitting down 
on the rock, closed her eyes for a moment. 
When she opened them again, The Little 
Old Man had gone. 

“Goodness to gracious, what was that 
awful noise?” gasped poor little Eleanor 
at last. “Something hit me on the head, 
and Oh dear, what is the matter with my 
poor ears? How strangely they feel!” 

Cautiously putting up her two hands, 
she found — Oh what do you think? She 
found — on each of her two innocent little 
ears, a small wooden box! 

312 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


“What has happened to me 1 ?” cried the 
child, and then — she suddenly remem- 
bered the Little Man’s words! “I’ll 
‘box’ your ears,” he had said, and poor 
Eleanor realized that in some mysterious 
way he had literally carried out his 
threat. Her ears, alas! had indeed been 
“boxed.” She jumped to her feet and 
made frantic efforts to get rid of the awful 
things, but in vain, for they were so 
securely fastened — or riveted, to her poor 
head, that try as she would, she could not 
even budge them! Terribly frightened, 
and crying bitterly, she started for home. 

“I wish I hadn’t been so rude — I’m 
sorry I made the Little Man angry,” she 
sobbed, “for if I had n’t, then this dread- 
ful thing wouldn’t have happened to 
me.” 

Papa and Mamma were both at home, 
and were as much shocked as their little 
313 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


daughter, at what had occurred. They 
used every means they could think of to 
dislodge the two boxes, but were unsuc- 
cessful. A doctor and then another, were 
sent for, but after working over the child, 
for an hour or more, they were obliged 
to confess, that with all their skill, they 
could not give help, without seriously 
injuring her. They were unfamiliar with 
the wood of which the boxes were made 
and it was so hard a kind that they 
could n’t cut or even make any impres- 
sion upon it. One of them did finally 
succeed in drilling a small hole in the 
front of each box, thus enabling Eleanor 
to hear, which was a great comfort, as 
until he did this, she had been totally 
deaf. 

“It is n’t much, to be sure, but it is all 
we can do,” said the kind-hearted doctor, 
adding to the mother; “In time, no doubt 
3H 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


the boxes will drop off, of their own 
accord. They are, of course, unbecoming, 
and certainly do injure your child’s ap- 
pearance now, but you can hide them 
somewhat, by brushing her hair down over 
them.” 

This advice Eleanor’s mother followed, 
parting her little daughter’s dark curly 
hair in the middle, and brushing it care- 
fully down on each side, tying it with 
two big blue bows. But even then, alas ! 
the boxes could be plainly seen, and the 
poor child was very unhappy, as every- 
body stared at her, wherever she went. 

In the end, her mother took her to a 
skillful hairdresser, but he could think of 
nothing to do, to remedy matters. 

He finally suggested that they fasten 
small flower-pots upon Eleanor’s shoul- 
ders and train ivy to grow over the boxes. 
“I would suggest some pretty flowering 

315 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


vine,” he said eagerly, “whose delicate 
tracery would be both artistic and becom- 
ing* 

At first, they were all delighted at this 
charming idea, but on talking matters 
over, they finally made up their minds 
that for many reasons, it would not be a 
good thing. “She might catch cold when 
the plants were watered,” objected Mam- 
ma. 

“And I am afraid that bugs might 
crawl up from the vine, through the box- 
holes and get into my ears!” said Eleanor, 
and this very unpleasant possibility, put 
an end to that plan. 

The child suffered greatly from the 
shame of having the two ugly square 
things sticking out on each side of her 
pretty little head, and in pity, her parents 
took her away from school altogether, and 
taught her at home. At last, she refused 
316 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


to go out in the day-time, fearing that she 
would meet people. 

Sometimes she would walk in the 
evening with her older brother, Carl, and 
her kind father used to take her out in 
the automobile, too, and when they met 
anybody, put on all speed, and hurry by ! 

One day, about a month later, an idea 
suddenly occurred to Eleanor. She won- 
dered if she were to go to the same place, 
where she had met the bad Little Man, 
whether she might not see him once more? 
If so, she would implore him to help her. 
Remembering, however, how very hate- 
ful he had been, there seemed little chance 
of his doing so, but there was a possibility, 
of course, and Eleanor made up her mind 
to go. 

Following the path, as before, she soon 
reached the big rock, and seating herself 
on it, she called out to the Little Man: 
317 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Oh Sir, if you are near, please help me. 
I know I was rude the other day, and I am 
sorry, but indeed, you have given me too 
cruel a punishment.” Alas ! to this pitiful 
appeal, there was no answer whatsoever 
— no Little Man appeared. So, at last, 
the disappointed child rose sadly from 
the rock, and was about to go home, when 
suddenly, from above, apparently from 
the branches of the willow, — came an 
elfish “Ha, ha!” and a shrill voice cried 
mockingly : 

“Got your ears ‘boxed,’ did n’t you?” 

“Oh, are you there?” cried Eleanor in 
great excitement. “Then help me, Sir, 
Please, please help me!” 

At this, there was silence for a moment, 
then the voice called down, crossly, 

“Don’t bother me. Go get an Anta- 
rillal” 

Eleanor peered into the tree, but saw no 
318 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


one. Nevertheless, the mysterious words 
had certainly been spoken by someone. 
They rang out clearly and unmistakably, 
and the child felt encouraged, for she was 
sure that the strange Little Man had been 
the speaker, and that what he had said, 
had been said to help her ! 

Hurrying to her home, she told her 
father what had happened. 

“And, Papa, the voice said, quite dis- 
tinctly, ‘Get an Antarilla^ ” here the little 
girl looked questioningly at him. 

“Then the thing to do is to get an 
Antarilla, and that without loss of time , 55 
said Mamma, firmly, and seizing his coat 
and hat, dear, kind Papa hurried to the 
door. 

“I will get one!” he cried, “I will get 
one immediately, but — come to think of 
it, my dear — er — just what is an Anta- 
rilla?” 


319 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“Why,” said Mamma briskly, “an 
Antarilla is — is a — Why you know, it ’s 
one of those — well, now, — I ’m afraid 
after all, I am not sure, myself, just what 
an Antarilla is!” and she looked help- 
lessly at Papa. 

Papa looked helplessly at her, while 
Eleanor, poor child, looked helplessly back 
at both. Then they all confessed that 
they did n’t know what an Antarilla was, 
and had not the least idea where one could 
be found. 

“Get the dictionary,” suggested Mam- 
ma at last, but the big fat dictionary 
seemed to know all about everything else 
in the world — except the antarilla, or if 
it did know that it refused to say anything 
about it. 

And in the encyclopedia too, the Anta- 
rilla was not even mentioned. 

Then Papa went to the Natural His- 
320 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


tory Rooms, and to the Horticultural 
Society, and even to the Hydro-therapeu- 
sciotic Office, but — he got no information 
at all, from anybody. They had never 
even heard the word “Antarilla.” 

Papa learned then, that “Berdon’s 
Bursting Big Circus” was in town, and he 
went there, thinking that the manager, 
being in the way of knowing about all 
sorts of strange creatures, might at least, 
be able to tell him what the Antarilla was, 
and if it was an animal, where one could 
be found. There was even a chance that 
he might have one in his menagerie. 

Soon reaching the big tent, he asked for 
the manager, Mr. Wood, fortunately 
finding him at home. He explained what 
he wanted, and you can imagine his de- 
light when the man said : 

“Now, sir, I think I can help you, but 
’t is indeed fortunate that you happened 
321 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


to come to me , because I am probably the 
only man living in this part of the country, 
who could give you any information.” 

Then he explained that several months 
before, he had sent one of his men to the 
wilds of Africa to get some lions, tigers, 
and so forth, and that he had also told 
him to pick up any unusual creatures he 
might come across. 

“Now,” continued the manager, “two 
weeks ago, I had a letter from this man, 
and I will read it.” 

“Dear Sir,” it began, “I have got eleven 
lions and four leopards. Besides them, 
I have also secured two charming tiger- 
ettas (which are small, sweet tempered 
tigers), three yellow-horned picardos, 
three membs and two of the rare anta- 
rillas, which — from their fondness for eat- 
ing boxes, are sometimes called the “Box 
322 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


Eating Antarillas.” I expect to sail for 
home, on the 26th.” 

Now Papa, of course, was much excited 
at this great news, and both he and the 
manager agreed that if the antarilla really 
had this astonishing habit of eating boxes, 
he must be, of course, the very animal for 
which they were looking! 

The circus-manager then told them that 
the boat with the man and all the wild 
creatures, including the two antarillas, 
was due at any moment. 

He telephoned to the wharf, to see if 
she had been sighted, but the answer came 
that she had not. Then the manager 
promised to telephone and let them know, 
as soon as she appeared. 

So back Papa hurried to tell the joyful 
news to Eleanor and her mother. They 
could, scarcely sleep that night, so happy 

323 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


and excited were they. The next morn- 
ing at eleven minutes past nine, word 
came that the animal-boat was just com- 
ing in. So they tumbled into their auto- 
mobile and were soon at the wharf, where, 
sure enough, quite near, they could see the 
big, broad vessel slowly creeping up the 
bay! 

The manager, Mr. Wood, joined them 
here, and within half an hour, the boat 
was docked, and they had met and were 
shaking hands with the rough, shrewd- 
looking man, who had the animals in 
charge. 

“All well?” enquired Mr. Wood anx- 
iously. 

“No, sir,” answered the man, “two 
lions and one tiger died, half way over.” 

“Too bad,” said Mr. Wood, “and the 
other animals?” 

“Well, Sir, in spite of us, one of the 
324 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


membs escaped from the box, and jumped 
overboard, and one of the box-eating 
antarillas died from pneumonia.” 

“O-o-h!” interrupted Eleanor. 

“One dead*? But the other is living? 
.Do tell us that the other antarilla is liv- 
ing?” cried Eleanor, her father, and Mr. 
Wood, excitedly. 

“Why, yes, the other one is living all 
right,” answered the man slowly, evi- 
dently surprised at this intense interest, 
in the insignificant little antarilla. “Yes, 
he ’s living, anta is, but — he ain’t been 
well lately.” 

“Not well?” moaned Eleanor. 

“Nothin’ serious,” the man assured her, 
“it was this way, Miss. Perhaps you 
did n’t know, that these animals are box- 
eaters?” 

“Indeed we know all about that.” 

“Well, you see,” went on the keeper, 

325 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


“to keep an antarilla happy an’ in good 
health, one must give him daily, a good 
rich diet of boxes , and owin’ to head- 
winds which delayed us, we ran short in 
our supply, toward the end. The little 
critter prefers wooden boxes, but he will 
eat others, so to save his life, during the 
last few days, we fed him everythin’ we 
had on board, in the line of boxes. 
Rolled-oats boxes, cuff-boxes, collar-but- 
ton boxes and even the Cap’n’s music box, 
we served up to him ! But, somehow, that 
music box did not seem to agree with him, 
and, to be perfectly frank — ” here the man 
hesitated. 

“Yes — yes, go on,” said Mr. Wood 
anxiously. 

“Well, sir, it ’s my belief that we landed 
just in time to save the little fellow’s life ! 
If you will excuse me now, I will run up 
326 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


to a fruit store, as quick as I can, and get 
him a nice, juicy box.” 

“You need n’t do that, Morgan, it is n’t 
necessary,” and Mr. Wood, taking the 
man aside, explained matters, directing 
him to go below at once, and bring the 
antarilla on deck. 

“I hope he isn’t very big and fierce?” 
asked the little girl anxiously, beginning 
to be afraid now; for most discomforting 
roars and squeaks, had been for some time, 
rising from below. 

But Morgan comforted her. “Fierce? 
Not he, he ’s only ’bout the size of a cat, 
anyway, and he ’s very affectionate and 
gentle. He has been the pet of the ship 
coming over, and I know you will like 
him, Miss.” 

Eleanor smiled, much pleased by this 
description. 


327 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 


Morgan went off, but returned in a 
moment, carrying in his arms, a most 
enchanting little creature — pure white 
and fluffy, with a long tail, and two bright 
black eyes. Although evidently very 
weak, it was trying to lick the man’s hand. 



“You darling dear!” cried Eleanor, 
almost forgetting why they were there, 
in her joy at the antarilla’s pleasing ap- 
pearance. He, too, showed signs of de- 
328 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


light at meeting her , for his keen, pointed 
nose had evidently scented a favorite 
food, nearby! He lifted his head, and 
tried to stagger to his feet. 

At Morgan’s direction, Eleanor took 
the friendly little animal in her arms and 
while everybody watched with breathless 
interest, he curled himself up cosily, on 
one of her shoulders, lifted his head and 
opened his mouth wide, disclosing triple 
rows of wee, saw-like teeth. Then — in 
just about a twinkling, this little creature 
had s-c-r-u~n~c-h-e-d off one of the boxes , 
which he proceeded to munch and munch, 
with evident relish! 

Putting him then onto the other shoul- 
der, Eleanor, wild with delight, again bent 
her head, and instantly, in another twink- 
ling, the second box was taken off, in the 
same wonderfully neat and thorough 
way! 


329 


THE LISTEN TO ME STORIES 

All traces of the boxes vanished abso- 
lutely, leaving the child as she had been 
before, with nothing at the side of her 
head, except the two nice little ears which 
had always been there ! 

“Ain't he great?” asked the two circus- 
men, patting the antarilla proudly, and 
the delighted father and mother admitted 
that he certainly was! Eleanor begged 
them to let her take him home, as a pet. 
“Robert and I would take good care of 
him,” she said. “Can we not have him?” 

“I think it would be unwise to do so,” 
said Papa, “it might be a very difficult 
matter to supply him with a steady diet 
of boxes, you know.” 

So the lovely idea had to be given up, 
and after a generous payment to the two 
circus-men, the happy family went home. 

But, oh, children, was n’t it fortunate 
that the animal-steamer got in when it 
330 


THE BOX-EATING ANTARILLA 


did 4 ? If it had n’t, then the last antarilla 
would have been dead, too! Just think 
of it! In that case, of course, poor Elea- 
nor might have had her ears “boxed” to 
this day, for I doubt whether the family 
could ever have found any more anta- 
rillas — they are such very rare creatures, 
you know ! 


THE END 


331 







‘ 



<5* \V 

» ** 

/. 7 


* \ 

<> O 


. * o V 

^ y “» ^ A 0 N C ^ ^'m sS ^ 

■> * 'Ks> v 

- **■ >? « 



*«<? 

a\ v :. k 

'V V K 


r'' 


O. '/ 




«• 
o 
* •* 


\ 0 °<. 


* A 
^ -0* 


C' *- 

*l v °s7 * J I A " \V 

A V . f * 0 . \> S 

A ; r « 5 . * ' 

* .''jssSfor- v/ 



* S £> ” 4 

> 1 * * -<f / t , “« i V 

1 i> V 1 C * f-C'C'CV ^ 1&D 

' s -i. 

V . " w 

' /: * .0 G> *■ 

, v _ s ❖ -<• J, 

V - J V ^ 



r*> ^ ^ \ i 

^ vi 



^ . <$’ %. \ WW$ * # y -» ^fe' " «,•>* % ■ 

^ *, s a ^ ^ ^ o , „ * , \ ^ *r*\^ \0 X < 

♦>o > VJLV, °o ** g°V 1 ^W 



cj> *■ J 

V X ' ^° N c */ r o' 1 

• O £> ^.PsTVi. * r J 

K c, > x ' 

^ •* v 

; - =* X° °o r 

, °2. *.,>*' y O’ 

\0 ^ X ^ / £"» \* S ' /y 

\U «- <? t* + *P N ^ 

\ iv^*^ A. ^ <?>. ^ a 


£#;>% ’ - * . , 

— *% <*. o Y A 

u 'sm** ,<y * . 

^ * * s ^ # v . „ 4 r 

1 ^ * 

- A - 

iC ^v»* v 0o. 



-\ <L ;t c^v y 

* \V^ ^ * 

\ c ^ ^ r ^ ^ 

V s s ' 
v s. 


. • 



■* N 0 ' _N~ X , n °*t> h 8 I ' ? \^' s » « W ■•» N 0 » 

A 0 %>* J C‘ \> s > ,9f 

^ CLV’ rf\ '/> /Ja a\.* f ' V <* ^ (AT 

c> _ JVaV™ JI/L ° ^j, ;V ° i :fe>' f- 

’ X 7- fv 





$>■ ^ v;~ v 7>- * „x? 'V' 

° * 1 :/ ' . '**'>>■-•• >o 






W/ <U_ 

,V c o N C ^ fl 

. y -Jy * 

' 








V> A> 
</' \v 



» S ^ % . J “ >' ^ c o *'*■ 

\> . ^ ^ * 0 , ^ ’ A \> 





./ *-»_ 



b J& ^ 


v *- & : 


* < 



L * 


A^ ' A 


■ ^ % IV/lv * & ■<% • 

^ v * . cL* y v o 

P.-"‘'S '•“’/c-«. °* "' ' -° 

•3- ^/7^2 ^ ^ * - r ' t '' 



y 0 * * * A 

<T J . A' c 0 

^ * 


0 ? A v ‘ 8 * v 

- ^ >* :*S 

v »*•; 



0 N 0 

A r f? * 

* A' - -&> k c V A v * 

A' </> 


« ' 1 « 4 


<* 


y 



A* ** *-5> ...... 

o ° X "* ,'\ 0 <* " f ^ ^ A ~ ■ \ 

^ .,# .c •, °? " ^ A 


** 



o • 



A c 0 

♦ U $ 


y •>* Y * 

* o o N 


g5 - A 

s \ v* T^r 


\ > ^ • y h i, \ ' A ^ _. 

^ t o 

\V **7^ ^ 0 m 0 " 

y s^’ ’„ > * 


. ** 

**•>*'*' ••,\7 ,,, *‘ '* 

■ <A® ' l/- ^ v 

%A •0y&'\\ **<& -•-•■■ 

V r r ~H : 7 z ^ ^ 7 

V </>. ^ ^Ikmil.fc-:^ <r ** ^ 7 

"‘.%/ e - K 


; :> ; 

o 

>* 

= 

x° >• 


tM 


«*' A " ’ 

** CJ > « 


A>‘ *,» 

'V ' 

o f * , ' . s . o 

o *> c .. '/• »<i s A 

c -0 v” 



^ A v - 4\M/Ao '-V* ^ 


^ S3 ^ 

<\ 7 0 * X * A 

cr « *- '• 8 4 <#> A V c 

^ ^ iV> + 

* ^ ^ 

; litis* -< aV 

.A o ^ 

^ A l) y 

I ^ ^ y ' '■■ -©, ♦ , 

A 0 l % ' * 0 A ' l b 

^ <V> r ^ "P. 

t ' ^ ^ ^ m fyk e % 

v7 ® cv\\\i^ M/yk </■ 

. »™«V ' ^ V ' /> - 


* ^V A . 






